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L161— O-1096 


THRILLING    STORIES 


GREAT     REBELLION, 


MnUNTAJN  SCDUT  , 


THRILLING  STORIES 


GREAT   REBELLION 


COMPBISISa 


HEROIC  ADVENTURES  AND  HAIR- 
BREADTH   ESCAPES    OF    SOLDIERS,    SCOUTS, 
SPIES,    AXD    REFUGEES;    DARING   EXPLOITS   OF   SMUG- 
GLERS,   GUERRILLAS,   DESPERADOES,   AND    OTHERS;    TALES   07 
LOYAL   AND    DISLOYAL   WOMEN  ;   STORIES   OF   THE  NEGRO,   ETC.  ETC. 


WITH  INCIDENTS  OF  FUN  AND  MERRIMENI  IN  CAMP  AND  FIELD. 

•  TOGETHER  WITH 

JLN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  DEATU  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN ;  FATl 

OF  THE  ASSASSINS  ;    CAPTURE  OF  JEFFERSON 

DAVIS,  AND  END  OF  THE  WAR. 


BY 

LIKUTENANT-COLONEL  CHARLES  S.   GREENS. 

LATE  OF  THE  CKITEB  STATES  ABMT. 


:it^  illustrations. 


p  H  I  L  A  I)  K  L  p  in  A  t 

John  E.  Potter  and  Company, 

617   iJANbOM    SliiKKT. 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  jear  1864,  h.*- 

JOHN    E.    POTTER, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  in 
and  for  the  Eastern  District  of  the  State  of  Pennsylvania. 


%1 


/W 


PREFACE. 


In  the  quick  succession  of  surprising  events  which  hate 
characterized  our  country's  history  since  the  outbreak  of  the 
great  rebellion,  it  has  been  beyond  the  power  of  any  one  to 
retain  more  than  fragmentary,  disconnected  impressions  of 
scenes  and  incidents  which  would  prove  a  valuable  addition 
to  one's  stock  of  information,  could  they  but  be  permanently 
located  in  memory's  storehouse. 

Detailed  histories  and  official  records  must,  of  necessity, 
be  resorted  to  for  the  graver  and  weightier  matters  connected 
with  our  present  struggle  for  a  national  existence ;  of  such, 
fortunately,  there  bids  fair  to  be  no  lack.  The  earnest  inquirer 
ftfter  the  outline  facts  of  the  contest  will  be  at  no  loss  to 
discover  a  variety  of  sources  whence  he  may  glean  all  that 
he  desires. 

Of  the  comparatively  minor  movements  in  the  great 
irama,  however,  there  exists,  at  present,  nothing  which  can 
be  regarded  as  a  fitting  repository.  While  the  deeds  and 
misdeeds  of  the  more  prominent  actors  on  the  busy  stage  are 
chronicled  in  formal  phrases  of  eulogium  or  censure,  the 
Almost  innumerable  multitude  of  incidents  of  adventure  and 
daring — the  items  of  personal  endurance  and  suffering — the 
details  of  peril  by  flood  and  field — the  rollicking,  luxuriant 
humor  of  the  camp,  cropping  out  in  word  and  act — the  hero- 
ism of  the  hospital — the  devotion  of  friendship — indeed,  the 
large  majority  of  individual  cases,  among  the  less  known 
and  famous,  which,  in  reality,  serve  to  make  the  present  war 

<5) 


$  PREFACE. 

what  it  is — have  thus  far  been  consigned,  if  noticed  at  all, 
to  the  columns  of  the  newspaper,  one  day  read  and  the 
next  day  forgotten,  or  to  the  pages  of  the  letter,  intended  for 
but  few  eyes. 

This  ought  not  so  to  be.  He  who  would  form  a  correct 
opinion  as  to  the  present  rebellion  as  a  whole,  must  carefully 
examine  the  various  parts  which  compose  it.  In  this  view, 
scarcely  anything  bearing  upon  the  contest  can  be  deemed 
insignificant  or  trivial,  nothing,  certainly,  "  common  or  un- 
clean." 

To  rescue  this  class  of  incidents  from  oblivion,  to  present 
them  in  an  attractive  garb,  carefully  discriminating  between 
fact  and  fancy,  to  collect  what  else  would  be  fugitive  and 
ephemeral  in  a  permanent  and  acceptable  form — these  were 
the  objects  contemplated  in  the  preparation  of  the  following 
pages 

They  cannot  fail  to  prove  of  interest  to  all.  They  narrate 
of  our  common  humanity,  when  most  sorely  tried  and  tempted, 
Avhose  manifestations  have  ever,  since  man  was,  stirred  the 
blood  and  enkindled  the  heart.  They  record  deeds  in  sym- 
pathy Avilh  which  "the  common  pulse  of  man  keeps  time." 

Not  a  moment  of  the  hours  of  enforced  leisure  which  have 
been  directed  to  the  selection,  condensation,  and  arrangement 
of  the  pages  which  follow  is  regretted  by  the  compiler.  He 
knows  not  that  he  could  have  been  better  or  more  pleasantly 
employed. 

To  the  thousands  of  loyal  men  and  women,  whose  prayers, 
wishes,  and  efforts  go  forth  so  earnestly  and  incessantly  for 
the  cause  of  right  and  truth,  the  cause  of  our  common  coun- 
try, and  of  man  wherever  found,  this  book  is  submitted, 
with  the  confident  assurance  that  it  contains  much,  at  least, 
that  all  desire  to  remember,  and  little,  if  any,  that  deserves 
to  be  forgotten. 


CONTENTS. 


rAsi 

The  GTreat  Railroad  Adventure             .            .            .            .11 

A  Prophetic  Presentiment 

19 

Adventure  of  a  Spy        .... 

20 

The  Negro  Tillman's  Narratire 

22 

Zagonyi's  Famous  Charge 

25 

The  Fearful  Ordeal 

40 

The  Frightened  Speculators 

41 

The  Daring  Spy              .            .            . 

43 

Little  Eddie,  the  Drummer-boy 

55 

Old  Ben,  the  Mountain  Scout    . 

.      60 

Surrounding  Five  of  Them 

.      71 

Army  Wings,  as  explained  by  one  of  the  Boys 

71 

Irish  Wit  Ever  Ready    . 

72 

Miss  Oldom,  the  Kentucky  Heroine      . 

.      73 

Fighting  on  His  own  Hook 

.      74 

Dahlgren's  Famous  Dash 

.       81 

A  Fighting  Parson 

.       83 

Taking  it  Coolly 

.       85 

Too  Much  for  Her 

.       86 

A  Nameless  Spy 

.      86 

A  Daring  Deed 

91 

(T) 


CONTENTS. 


Wouldn't  Sell     . 

The  Irish  Sentinel 

Good  for  the  Belgians 

The  Hollow-Heeled  Boo 

Presence  of  Mind 

An  Ingenious  Dodge 

Old  Gap  of  Tennessee 

Going  the  "Whole  Hog 

Didn't  Like  It     . 

A  Practical  Joke 

Praying  for  the  President 

The  Quakers  on  the  War-Path 

The  Scout's  Story 

In  the  Shenandoah  Valley 

Incidents  of  a  Fight 

A  Heroic  Sailor 

Adventure  of  Killdare  the  Scout 

The  Night  of  the  Battle  of  Ball's  Bluff 

Incidents  of  Fort  Pickens 

A  Strange  Sight  in  Battle 

Heroism  in  the  Hospital 

Impudent  Coolness 

Joe  Parsons  the  Maryland  Boy 

A  Loyal  Pigeon 

Gathering  in  the  Contrabands 

John  Morgan's  Female  Spy 

Incidents  of  Grierson's  Raid 

Eddy  McFadden 

A  Brave  Boy  and  Gallant  Sailor 

Characteristic  Incident 


CONTENTS. 

9 

fAGH 

Sailie  Richmond  and  Devil  Bill              ....    165 

Keutuck  against  Kentuck 

.    175 

The  Scout's  Revenge 

.     176 

Why  the  Lieutenant  Ate  the  Pie 

.     189 

A  Gallant  Lad    . 

.     191 

On  the  Cumberland 

.     192 

A  Chat  about  Stone  River 

.     193 

The  Wrong  Leg 

.     195 

What  it  cost  to  be  Loyal 

.     195 

A  Desperate  Hand-to-Hand  Contest 

.     198 

Fists  against  Muskets    . 

.     199 

Killed  in  Action 

.     199 

Drawing  Rations 

.     204 

Hadn't  Heard  of  the  War 

.     205 

An  Impromptu  Duel 

.     206 

How  Ike  Barker  was  Whipped 

.     208 

Life  at  Elk  Horn  Tavern 

.     213 

Escape  from  Libby  Prison 

.     223 

Adventures  of  an  Arkansas  Refugee 

.     229 

How  the  Secesh  took  Clark  Wright 

.     239 

A  Race  for  Life 

.     243 

Pluck  on  the  Frontier    . 

.     248 

A  Night  Adventure  on  the  Potomac 

.     258 

The  Tennessee  Blacksmith 

.     266 

A  Conflict  with  Desperadoes     . 

.     274 

Stealing  a  March 

.     279 

A  Darkey  in  the  Air 

.     286 

The  Fourteenth  at  Gettysburg  . 

.    287 

The  Way  Joe  Allen  Buried  Vandegrift 

.     293 

Bragg  and  his  High  Private 

.    298 

10 


CONTENM. 


The  Right  Man  in  the  Right  Place 

The  Fight  at  Brandy      . 

Not  the  Right  "  Sanders" 

The  Sharpshooter's  Story  . 

The  Prose  of  Battles     . 

A  Thrilling  Scene  in  Tennessee 

The  Bogus  Kentucky  Unionist 

A  Contraband's  Idea  of  War    . 

The  Traitor  Wagon-Master 

A  Cute  Darkey  .  ,  . 

Not  Used  to  It  . 

Newcomer  the  Scout 

Thrilling  Adventure  on  a  Railway 

The  Great  Conspiracy    . 

Assassination  of  President  Lincoln 

The  Evacuation  of  Richmond  . 

Attempted  Assassination  of  Secretary  Seward 

Sam  De  Morse  the  Guerrilla 

Death  of  Booth  the  Assassin    . 

Hanging  of  the  Conspirators 

How  a  Substitute  Broker  was  Taken  In 

How  the  Alabama  Unionists  Hung  a  Guerrilla 

Incidents  in  the  Pursuit  of  Booth 

Swearing  a  Contraband 

Gen.  McCall's  First  Escape 

A  Frightened  African    .  • 

Capture  of  Jeff.  Davia  .  . 


THUILLING  STORIES 


GREAT    REBELLION. 


THE  GEEAT  EAUKOAD  ADVEKTimE. 

*?HE  expedition  which  is  here  recorded  had,  in  the 
daring  of  its  conception,  the  wildness  of  a  romance; 
while  in  the  gigantic  and  overwhelming  results  which  it 
sought  and  was  likelj  to  accomplish  it  was  absolutely 
sublime. 

In  April,  1862,  the  rebel  forces  in  the  west,  under 
Beauregard,  were  concentrated  at  Corinth,  Miss.,  with 
smaller  detachments  scattered  along  the  railroad  to  Chat- 
tanooga, Tenn.  The  railroads  on  which  he  relied  for 
supplies  and  reinforcements,  as  well  as  for  communica- 
tion with  the  eastern  portion  of  rebeldom,  formed  an  irreg- 
ular parallelogram,  of  which  the  northern  side  extended 
from  Memphis,  Tenn.,  to  Chattanooga ;  the  eastern  from 
Chattanooga  to  Atlanta,  Ga. ;  the  southern  from  Atlanta 
to  Jackson,  Miss. ;  and  the  western,  by  a  network  of  roads, 
from  Jackson  to  Memphis.  The  Great  East  Tennessee 
and  Virginia  E.  K.  intersected  this  parallelogram  at  Chat- 
tanooga, By  the  obstruction  of  the  northern  and  eastern 
sides  of  this  parallelogram  Beauregard  was  isolated,  and 
East  Tennessee,  then  in  possession  of  the  rebels,  made 
readily  accessible  to  the  Government  forces. 

A  second  military  expedition  was  accordingly  set  on 
foot,  in  that  month,  under  the  authority  and  direction  of 

(  11  ) 


12  THE  GREAT  RAILROAD  ADVENTURE 

Gen.  O.  M.  Mitcbell,  whose  division  "was  then  at  Shelby- 
ville,  Tenn.,  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  the  communi- 
cation on  the  Georgia  State  R.  R.,  between  Atlanta  and 
Chattanooga.  The  expedition  comprised  twenty-three 
men,  under  the  lead  of  J.  J.  Andrews,  a  Keutuckian, 
and  the  originator  of  the  enterprise,  who,  with  a  single 
exception,  a  Kentuckian,  who  acted  as  the  substitute  of 
a  soldier,  had  been  selected  from  different  companies  in 
Gen.  M.'s  division  for  their  known  courage  and  discretion. 

The  mode  of  operation  propospd  was  to  reach  a  point 
on  the  road  where  they  could  seize  a  locomotive  and  train 
of  cars,  and  then  dash  back  in  the  direction  of  Chatta- 
nooga, cutting  the  telegraph  wires  and  burning  the 
bridges  behind  them  as  they  advanced,  until  they 
reached  their  own  lines. 

All  understood  that  the  service  was  secret  and  danger- 
ous, and  that  if  they  were  caught,  hanging  would  probably 
be  their  lot.  The  whole  party,  accordingly,  were  disguised 
in  citizen's  dress,  and  on  the  seventh  of  April  left  camp, 
at  Shelbyville,  and  made  for  Manchester,  Tenn.  Great 
difficulty  was  experienced  in  passing  their  own  pickets, 
and  several  were  near  being  shot.  At  Manchester  they 
represented  themselves  as  Kentuckians  on  their  way  to 
Chattanooga  to  join  the  rebel  army.  After  leaving  that 
point  they  fell  in  with  rebel  sympathizers,  who  furnished 
them  with  letters  and  passes  to  their  friends  in  Chatta- 
nooga. At  this  time  the  party  divided  into  squads  of 
two  and  four,  and  started  ahead  of  each  other,  all,  how- 
ever, with  the  same  story  as  to  their  ultimate  object. 

After  five  days  the  party  met  at  Chattanooga,  and  at 
once  took  the  cars  for  Marietta,  Ga.  Before  leaving 
Andrews  divided  among  them  seven  hundred  dollars  of 
Confederate  script,  and  told  them  that  they  were  soon  to 
enter  upon  their  dangerous  duty,  but  the  first  man  that 
got  drunk  or  flinched  in  the  least,  he  would  shoot  him 
dead  on  the  spot ;  that  the  object  must  be  accomplished, 
or  they  must  leave  their  bones  in  Dixie. 


THE  GREAT  RAILROAD  ADVENTURE.  13 

After  a  journey  of  about  eighteen  hours,  they  arrived 
at  Marietta,  Ga.,  and  put  up  at  a  tavern.  The  next 
morning  before  daylight  they  again  took  the  cars,  and 
went  back  the  same  road  to  a  place  called  Big  Shanty,  a 
refreshment  saloon  on  the  line  of  the  Georgia  and  Atlanta 
State  Road,  where  were  encamped  about  twenty  thousand 
Confederate  troops.  It  was  the  general  rendezvous  for 
recruits  and  the  organization  of  regiments.  The  train 
contained  a  number  of  soldiers  as  well  as  citizens,  together 
with  a  quantity  of  provisions,  and  an  iron  safe  containing 
a  large  amount  of  Confederate  script,  to  pay  the  troops 
at  Corinth.  This  portion  of  the  road  is  built  over  innu- 
merable creeks  and  rivers,  and  crosses  the  Tennessee 
Kiver  at  Bridgeport,  where  a  fine  bridge  is  erected. 

The  whole  party,  consisting  of  twenty,  left  the  cars  and 
divided  into  squads  of  three  and  four,  taking  stations  on 
each  side  of  the  train,  Andrews  stationing  himself  at  the 
coupling-pin  of  the  third  car.  A  number  of  the  party 
were  engineers,  and  thoroughly  understood  the  business 
on  liand.  One  of  the  engineers  was  at  his  post,  and  found 
everything  all  right.  All  hands  now  mounted  the  cars, 
although  the.  guard  was  within  three  feet  of  them ;  the 
word  was  given,  Andrews  drew  the  coupling-pin,  and 
cried  all  right. 

The  train,  now  consisting  of  three  cars  and  the  engine, 
was  started  off  with  as  little  noise  as  possible.  They  soon 
lost  sight  of  the  lights  at  Big  Shanty,  and  at  the  first 
curve  the  train  was  stopped,  and  one  of  the  party  climbed 
the  telegraph-pole  and  cut  the  wires.  They  then  started, 
and  the  next  point  tore  up  the  track,  and  took  a  rail  with 
them  on  the  car ;  and  thus  they  continued,  tearing  up  tha 
track  and  cutting  the  wires  on  the  other  side,  after  pass- 
ing a  town.  Unfortunately,  however,  the  train  was  run- 
ning in  a  very  slow  schedule,  and  they  were  compelled 
to  switch  off  and  let  the  down-train  pass.  At  the  first 
station  this  occurred,  the  engineer  of  the  road  made  his 
appearance,  and  was  about  to  step  on  the  engine,  when 


14  THE  GREAT  RAILROAD  ADVENTURE. 

Andrews  told  liim  he  could  not  come  on  bonrd,  as  tliis 
was  an  extra  train  to  run  through  to  Corinth,  and  the 
present  party  were  engaged  to  carry  it  there,  and  in  sup- 
port of  the  assertion  the  iron  safe  was  shown.  This  ap- 
parently satisfied  the  engineer,  and  they  took  in  wood 
and  water,  and  again  started.  A  second  time  they  were 
compelled  to  switch  off,  and  in  order  to  get  the  switch- 
keys,  Andrews,  who  knew  the  road  well,  went  into  the 
station  and  took  them  from  the  office.  This  caused  con- 
siderable excitement,  but  it  was  quieted  in  a  measure  by 
stating  that  the  train  contained  gunpowder  for  Beaure- 
gard, at  Corinth,  and  soon  after  they  again  started. 

About  twenty  miles  south  of  Dalton,  Ga.,  they  came 
to  a  bridge,  and  here  set  fire  to  one  of  the  cars,  piled  on 
wood,  and  left  it  on  the  bridge,  designing  to  set  it  on  fire 
also.  At  this  time  the  engineer  at  the  Kome  branch,  sus- 
pecting that  all  was  not  right,  started  up  the  track,  found 
the  rails  torn  up,  and  immediately  returned  to  the  junc- 
tion, and  took  on  board  a  quantity  of  loose  rails,  and  fol- 
lowed after.  Where  they  had  torn  up  the  rails  he  im- 
mediately laid  one,  and  without  stopping  to  fasten  it, 
started  over  slowly,  and  gave  chase.  Soon  he  came  to 
the  bridge  with  the  burning  car,  which  had  not  yet  cal^ght 
the  bridge.  In  the  mean  time  they  had  switched  off  to 
let  an  express  pass,  which  train  was  duly  informed  of 
their  character  by  discovering  the  track  torn  up,  and 
stopped,  but  was  soon  joined  by  the  Rome  engineer,  who 
had  succeeded  in  turning  the  burning  car  off  the  bridge. 
They  then  both  started  iu  pursuit,  laying  the  track  as 
they  went  along,  which  they  could  do  iu  a  much  shorter 
time  than  the  expedition  could  tear  it  up. 

Thus  it  was  they  overtook  them  at  work ;  and  as  soon 
as  they  found  themselves  discovered,  speed  was  their  only 
hope,  and  at  it  they  went ;  but  unfortunately  their  fuel 
was  nearly  out,  and  it  Avas  then  determined  to  leave  the 
engine  and  take  to  the  woods.  Accordingl}^  they  stop- 
ped and  reversed  her,  intending  she  should  run  back 


THE  GREAT  RAILROAD  ADVENTURE,  15 

upon  their  pursuers ;  but  in  this  they  failed,  as  she  had 
not  sufficient  steam  to  turn  her  over,  and  the  object  of 
the  adventurers  thus  failed  from  a  combination  of  unfor- 
tunate circumstances.  Ten  minutes  more  would  have  set 
the  bridge  on  fire,  and  the  Eome  engineer,  with  the  rails, 
could  not  have  followed  them,  and  the  down  express  was 
entirely  useless.  It  was  their  intention  to  have  destro)'ed 
all  the  bridges,  run  into  Chattanooga,  wait  until  the  even- 
ing train  passed,  and  then  gone  on  to  Bridgeport,  destroyed 
the  bridge  over  the  Tennessee  Kiver,  and  then  away  for 
Huntsville,  to  join  General  Mitchell, 

Their  troubles  now  commenced,  and  the  greatest  of  all 
their  disasters  was  the  division  of  their  party ;  'twas  now 
every  man  for  himself. 

So  soon  as  they  had  left  the  cars,  and  dispersed  them- 
selves in  the  woods,  the  population  of  the  country  around 
turned  out  in  their  pursuit,  employing  for  this  purpose 
the  dogs  which  are  trained  to  hunt  down  the  fugitive 
slaves  of  the  South.  The  whole  twenty-two  were  cap- 
tured. Among  them  was  private  Jacob  Parrot,  of  Co. 
K,  Thirty-third  Regiment  Ohio  Volunteers.  "When  ar- 
rested, he  was,  without  any  form  of  trial,  taken  possession 
of  by  a  military  officer  and  four  soldiers,  who  stripped 
him,  bent  him  over  a  stone,  and  while  two  pistols  were 
held  over  his  head,  a  lieutenant  in  rebel  uniform  inflicted 
with  a  rawhide  upwards  of  a  hundred  lashes  on  his  bare 
back.  This  was  done  in  the  presence  of  an  infuriated 
crowd,  who  clamored  for  his  blood,  and  actually  brought 
a  rope  with  which  to  hang  him.  The  object  of  this  pro- 
longed scourging  was  to  force  this  young  man  to  confess 
to  them  the  objects  of  the  expedition  and  the  names  of 
his  comrades,  especially  that  of  the  engineer  who  had  run 
the  train.  Their  purpose  was,  no  doubt,  not  only  to  take 
the  life  of  the  latter  if  identified,  but  to  do  so  with  every 
circumstance  of  humiliation  and  torture  which  they  could 
devise. 

Three  times,  in  the  progress  of  this  horrible  flogging, 


16  THE  GREAT  RAILROAD  ADVENTURE. 

it  was  suspended,  and  Mr.  Parrot  was  asked  if  he  would 
not  confess ;  but,  steadily  and  firmly  to  the  last,  he  re- 
fused all  disclosures,  and  it  was  not  till  his  tormentors 
were  weary  of  their  brutal  work  that  the  task  of  subduing 
their  victim  was  abandoned  as  hopeless. 

The  twenty-two  captives,  when  secured,  were  thrust 
into  the  negro-jail  of  Chattanooga.  They  occupied  a 
single  room,  half  under  ground,  and  but  thirteen  feet 
square,  so  that  there  was  not  space  enough  for  them  all 
to  lie  down  together,  and  a  part  of  them  were,  in  conse- 
quence, obliged  to  sleep  sitting  and  leaning  against  the 
walls.  The  only  entrance  was  through  a  trap-door  in  the 
ceiling,  that  was  raised  twice  a  day  to  let  down  their 
scanty  meals,  which  were  lowered  in  a  bucket.  They 
had  no  other  light  or  ventilation  than  that  which  came 
through  two  small  triple-grated  windows.  They  were 
covered  with  swarming  vermin,  and  the  heat  Avas  so  op- 
pressive that  they  were  often  obliged  to  strip  themselves 
entirely  of  their  clothes  to  bear  it.  Add  to  this,  they 
were  all  handcuffed,  and,  with  trace-chains  secured  by 
padlocks  around  their  necks,  were  fastened  to  each  other 
in  companies  of  twos  and  threes.  Their  food,  which  was 
doled  out  to  them  twice  a  day,  consisted  of  a  little  flour 
wet  with  water  and  baked  in  the  form  of  bread,^  and 
spoiled  pickled  beef.  They  had  no  opportunity  of  pro- 
curing any  supplies  from  the  outside,  nor  had  they  any 
means  of  doing  so — their  pockets  having  been  rifled  of 
their  last  cent  by  the  Confederate  authorities,  prominent 
among  whom  was  an  officer  wearing  the  rebel  uniform  of 
a  major.  No  part  of  the  money  thus  basely  taken  was 
ever  returned. 

During  this  imprisonment  at  Chattanooga  their  leader, 
Mr.  Andrews,  was  tried  and  condemned  as  a  spy,  and 
was  subsequently  executed  at  Atlanta,  the  seventh  of 
June.  They  were  strong  and  in  perfect  health  when  they 
entered  this  negro-jail,  but  at  the  end  of  something  more 
than  three  weeks,  when  they  were  required  to  leave  it, 


THE  GREAT  RAILROAD  ADVENTURE.  17 

they  were  so  exhausted  from  the  treatment  to  which  they 
had  been  subjected,  as  scarcely  to  be  able  to  walk,  and 
several  staggered  from  weakness  as  they  passed  through 
the  street  to  the  cars. 

Finally,  twelve  of  the  number  were  transferred  to  the 
prison  of  Knoxville,  Tenn.  On  arriving  there,  seven  of 
them  were  arraigned  before  a  court-martial,  charged  with 
being  spies.  Their  trial  of  course  was  summary.  They 
were  permitted  to  be  present,  but  not  to  hear  either  the 
argument  of  their  own  counsel  or  that  of  the  judge-advo- 
cate. 

Soon  thereafter  all  the  prisoners  were  removed  to  At- 
lanta, and  they  left  Knoxville  under  a  belief  that  their 
comrades,  who  had  been  tried,  either  had  been  or  would 
be  acquitted. 

On  the  eighteenth  of  June,  after  their  arrival  at  Atlan- 
ta, where  they  rejoined  the  comrades  from  whom  they 
had  been  separated  at  Chattanooga,  their  prison-door  was 
opened,  and  the  death-sentences  of  the  seven  who  had 
been  tried  at  Knoxville  were  read  to  them.  No  time  for 
preparation  was  allowed  them.  They  were  told  to  bid 
their  friends  farewell,  "  and  to  be  quick  about  it."  They 
were  at  once  tied  and  carried  out  to  execution.  Among 
the  seven  was  private  Samuel  Robinson,  Co.  G,  Thirty- 
third  Ohio  Volunteers,  who  was  too  ill  to  walk.  He  was, 
however,  pinioned  like  the  rest,  and  in  this  condition  was 
dragged  from  the  floor  on  which  he  was  lying  to  the 
scaftbld.  In  an  hour  or  more  the  cavalry  escort,  which 
had  accompanied  them,  was  seen  returning  with  the  cart, 
but  the  cart  was  empty — the  tragedy  had  been  consum- 
mated ! 

On  that  evening  and  the  following  morning  the  pri- 
soners learned  from  the  provost  marshal  and  guard  that 
their  comrades  had  died,  as  all  true  soldiers  of  the  Re- 
public should  die,  in  the  presence  of  its  enemies.  Among 
the  revolting  incidents  which  they  mentioned  in  connec- 
tion with  this  cowardly  butchery,  was  the  fall  of  two  of 
2 


18  THE  GREAT  RAILROAD  ADVENTURE. 

the  victims  from  the  breaking  of  the  ropes  after  thejhad 
been  for  some  time  suspended.  On  their  being  re- 
stored to  consciousness,  they  begged  for  an  hour  in 
which  to  pray  and  to  prepare  for  death,  but  this  was  re- 
fused them.  The  ropes  were  readjusted,  and  the  execution 
at  once  proceeded. 

Among  those  who  thus  perished  was  private  Alfred 
Wilson,  Co.  C,  Twenty-first  Ohio  Volunteers.  He  was  a 
mechanic  from  Cincinnati,  who,  in  the  exercise  of  his 
trade,  had  travelled  much  through  the  States,  north  and 
south.  Though  surrounded  by  a  scowling  crowd,  impa- 
tient for  his  sacrifice,  he  did  not  hesitate  while  standing 
under  the  gallows  to  make  them  a  brief  address.  lie 
told  them  that  though  they  were  all  wrong,  he  had  no 
hostile  feelings  towards  the  Southern  people,  believing 
that  not  they  but  their  leaders  were  responsible  for  the 
rebellion ;  that  he  was  no  spy,  as  charged,  but  a  soldier 
regularly  detailed  for  military  duty;  that  he  did  not  re- 
gret to  die  for  his  country,  but  only  regretted  the  manner 
of  his  death ;  and  he  added,  for  their  admonition,  that 
they  would  yet  see  the  time  when  the  old  Union  would 
be  restored,  and  when  its  flag  would  wave  over  them 
again.  And  with  these  words  the  brave  man  died.  IIo, 
like  his  comrades,  calmly  met  the  ignominious  doom  of 
a  felon — but,  happily,  ignominious  for  him  and  for  tliem 
only  so  far  as  the  martyrdom  of  the  patriot  and  the  hero 
can  be  degraded  by  the  hands  of  ruffians  and  traitc^rs. 

The  remaining  prisoners,  now  reduced  to  fourteen, 
were  kept  closely  confined  under  special  guard,  in  the 
jail  at  Atlanta,  until  October,  when,  overhearing  a  con- 
versation between  the  jailer  and  another  officer,  they  bc- 
cme  satisfied  that  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  authorities 
to  hang  them,  as  they  had  done  their  companions.  This 
led  them  to  form  a  plan  for  their  escape,  which  they  car- 
ried into  execution  on  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  by 
seizing  the  jailer  when  he  opened  the  door  to  carry  away 
the  bucket  in  which  their  supper   had   been  brought. 


A  PEOPIIETIC  PRESENTIMENT,  19 

This  was  followed  by  tlie  seizure  also  of  tlie  seven  guards 
on  duty,  and  before  the  alarm  was  given  eight  of  the  ihgi- 
tives  were  beyond  the  reach  of  pursuit.  Six  of  those, 
after  long  and  painful  wanderings,  succeeded  in  reaching 
the  Union  Lines.  Of  the  fate  of  the  other  two  nothing  is 
known. 

The  remaining  six  of  the  fourteen  were  recaptured  and 
confined  in  the  barracks,  until  December,  when  they  were 
removed  to  Richmond.  There  they  were  shut  up  in  a 
room  in  Castle  Thunder,  where  they  shivered  through 
the  winter,  without  fire,  thinly  clad,  and  with  but  two 
small  blankets,  which  they  had  saved  with  their  clothes, 
to  cover  the  whole  party.  So  they  remained  until  they 
were  exchanged,  at  the  end  of  eleven  months. 


A  PROPHETIC  PEESENTIMENT. 

While  Col.  Osterhaus  was  gallantly  attacking  the  centre 
of  the  enemy  on  the  second  day  of  the  battle  of  Pea  Ridge, 
Ark.,  a  sergeant  of  the  Twelfth  ]\[issouri  requested  the 
captain  of  his  com])any  to  send  his  wife's  portrait,  which 
he  had  taken  from  his  bosom,  to  her  address  in  St.  Louis, 
with  his  dying  declaration  that  he  thought  of  her  in  his 
last  moment. 

"  What  is  that  for  ?"  asked  the  captain.  "  You  are  not 
wounded,  are  you  ?" 

"No,"  answered  the  sergeant;  "but  I  know  I  shall  be 
killed  to-day.  I  have  been  in  battle  before,  but  I  never 
felt  as  I  do  now.  A  moment  ago  I  became  convinced 
my  time  had  come,  but  how,  I  cannot  tell.  Will  you 
gratify  my  request?  Remember,  I  speak  to  you  as  a 
dying  man." 

"  Certainly,  my  brave  fellow ;  but  you  will  live  to  a 
good  old  age  with  your  wife.  Do  not  grow  melancholy 
over  a  fanc}''  or  a  dream." 

"  You  will  see,"  was  the  response. 


20  ADVENTURE  OP  A  SPY. 

The  picture  changed  hands.  The  sergeant  stepped  for- 
ward to  the  front  of  the  column,  and  the  captain  per- 
ceived him  no  more. 

At  the  camp-fire  that  evening  the  officer  inquired  for 
the  sergeant.  He  was  not  present.  He  had  been  killed 
three  hours  before  by  a  grape-shot  from  one  of  the  enemy's 
batteries. 


ADTEUTUEE  OF  A  SPY. 

It  was  a  dark  night.  Not  a  star  on  the  glimmer. 
The  spy  had  collected  his  quotum  of  intelligence,  and 
was  on  the  move  for  the  Northern  lines.  He  was  ap- 
proaching the  banks  of  a  stream  whose  waters  had  to  be 
crossed,  and  had  then  some  miles  to  traverse  before  he 
could  reach  the  pickets  of  the  Union  troops.  A  feeling 
of  uneasiness  began  to  creep  over  him ;  he  was  on  the 
outskirt  of  a  wood  fringing  the  dark  waters  at  his  feet, 
whose  presence  could  scarcely  be  detected  but  for  their 
sullen  murmurs  as  they  rushed  through  the  gloom.  The 
wind  sighed  in  gentle  accordance.  He  walked  forty  or 
fifty  yards  along  the  bank.  He  then  crept  on  all-fours 
along  the  ground  and  groped  with  his  hands.  He 
paused — he  groped  again — his  breath  thickened,  perspi- 
ration oozed  from  every  pore,  and  he  was  prostrated  with 
horror!  He  had  missed  his  landmark,  and  knew  not 
where  he  was.  Below  or  above,  beneath  the  shelter  of 
the  bank,  lay  the  skiff'  he  had  hidden  ten  days  before 
when  he  commenced  his  operations  among  the  followers 
of  Jeff'.  Davis. 

As  he  stood  gasping  for  breath,  with  all  the  unmis- 
takable proofs  of  his  calling  about  him,  the  sudden  cry 
of  a  bird  or  plunging  of  a  fish  would  act  like  magnetism 
on  his  frame,  not  wont  to  shudder  at  a  shadow.  No 
matter  how  pressing  the  danger  may  be,  if  a  man  sees  an 
opportunity  for  escape,  he  breathes  with  freedom.     But 


ADVENTURE  OF  A  SPY.  21 

let  liim  be  surrounded  bv  darkness,  impenetrable  at  two 
yards'  distance,  within  rifle's  length  of  concealed  foes,  for 
what  knowledge  he  has  to  the  contrary ;  knowing,  too, 
with  painful  accuracy,  the  detection  of  his  presence  would 
reward  him  with  a  sudden  and  violent  death,  and  if  he 
breathes  no  faster,  and  feels  his  limbs  as  free  and  his  spi- 
rits as  light  as  when  taking  a  favorite  promenade,  he  is 
more  fitted  for  a  hero  than  most. 

In  the  agony  of  that  moment — in  the  sudden  and  utter 
helplessness  he  felt  to  discover  his  true  bearings — he  was 
about  to  let  himself  gentlv  into  the  stream,  and  breast 
its  current,  for  life  and  death.  There  was  no  alternative. 
The  Northern  pickets  must  be  reached  in  safety  before 
the  morning  broke,  or  he  would  soon  swing  between 
heaven  and  earth,  from  some  green  limb  of  the  black 
forest  in  which  he  stood. 

At  that  moment  the  low,  sullen  bay  of  a  bloodhound 
struck  his  ear.  The  sound  was  reviving — the  fearful 
stillness  broken.  The  uncertain  dread  flew  before  the 
certain  danger.  He  was  standing  to  his  middle  in  the 
shallow  bed  of  the  river,  just  beneath  the  jutting  banks. 
After  a  pause  of  a  few  seconds  he  began  to  creep  mecha- 
nically and  stealthil}'-  down  the  stream,  followed,  as  he 
knew  from  the  rustling  of  the  grass  and  frequent  break- 
ing of  twigs,  by  the  insatiable  brute ;  ahhough  by  certain 
uneasy  growls  he  felt  assured  the  beast  was  at  fault. 
Something  struck  against  the  spy's  breast.  He  could  not 
prevent  a  slight  cry  from  escaping  him,  as,  stretching  out 
his  hand,  he  grasped  the  gunwale  of  a  boat  moored  be- 
neath the  bank.  Between  surprise  and  joy  he  felt  half 
choked.  In  an  instant  he  had  scrambled  on  board  and 
began  to  search  for  the  painter  in  the  bow,  in  order  to 
cast  her  from  her  fastenings. 

Suddenly  a  bright  ray  of  moonlight — the  first  gleam 
of  hope  in  that  black  night — fell  directly  on  the  spot, 
revealing  the  silvery  stream,  his  own  skiff  (hidden  there 
ten  days  before),  lighting  the  deep  shadows  of  the  verging 


22  THE  NEGRO  TILLMAN's  NARRATIVE. 

wood,  and  on  the  log  half  buried  in  the  bank,  and  from 
which  he  had  that  instant  cast  the  line  that  had  bound 
him  to  it,  the  supple  form  of  the  crouching  bloodhcmnd. 
his  red  eyes  gleaming  in  the  moonlight,  jaws  distended, 
and  poising  for  the  spring.  With  one  dart  the  light  skift' 
was  yards  out  in  the  stream,  and  the  savage  after  it 
With  an  oar  the  spy  aimed  a  blow  at  his  head,  which, 
however,  he  eluded  with  ease.  In  the  effort  thus  made, 
the  boat  careened  over  towards  his  antagonist,  who 
made  a  desperate  effort  to  get  his  forepaws  over  the  side, 
at  the  same  time  seizing  the  gunwale  with  his  teeth. 

Now  or  never  was  the  time  to  get  rid  of  the  accursed 
brute.  The  spy  drew  his  revolver,  and  placed  the  muzzle 
between  the  beast's  eyes,  but  hesitated  to  fire;  for  that 
one  report  might  bring  on  him  a  volley  from  the 
shore.  Meantime  the  strength  of  the  dog  careened  the 
frail  craft  so  much  that  the  water  rushed  over  the  side, 
threatening  to  swamp  her.  He  changed  his  tactics,  threw 
his  revolver  into  the  bottom  of  the  skiff",  and  grasping 
his  "bowie,"  keen  as  a  Malay  creese,  and  glittering  as  he 
released  it  from  the  sheath,  like  a  moonbeam  on  the 
stream.  In  an  instant  he  had  severed  the  sinewy  throat 
of  the  hound,  cutting  through  the  brawn  and  muscle  to 
the  nape  of  the  neck.  The  tenacious  wretch  gave  a  wild, 
convulsive  leap  half  out  of  the  water,  then  sank,  and  was 
gone. 

Five  minutes'  pulling  landed  the  spy  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  and  in  an  hour  after,  without  further 
accident,  he  was  among  friends,  encompassed  by  the 
Northern  lines. 


THE  UEGEO  TILLMAN'S  NARRATIVE. 

The  schooner  S.  J.  Waring  had  started  on  a  voyage  to 
Buenos  Ayres,  in  Montevideo,  with  an  assorted  cargo, 
which,  witii  the  vessel,  was  valued  at  a  hundred  thousand 


THE  NEGRO  TILLMAN'S  NARRATIVE.  23 

dollars.  There  were  on  board  the  captain  and  mate; 
William  Tillman,  steward,  a  native  of  Delaware,  27  years 
old,  who  has  followed  the  sea  for  ten  years ;  Wm.  Sted- 
ding,  seaman;  Donald  McLeod,  seaman,  of  Cape  Breton, 
Nova  Scotia,  30  years  of  age ;  and  Bryce  Mackinnon,  a 
passenger. 

On  the  7th  of  July,  1861,  they  fell  in  with  the  Jeff. 
Davis,  and  a  prize  crew  of  five  were  put  aboard  who 
were  unarmed.  To  use  the  language  of  Tillman,  "  They 
run  ten  days  and  didn't  find  Charleston.  They  were, 
however,  only  fifty  miles  south  of  Charleston,  and  one 
hundred  to  the  eastward.  On  the  voyage  they  treated 
me  the  best  kind  of  way  and  talked  the  best  kind  of 
talk." 

One  day  the  first  lieutenant  of  the  pirates  was  sitting 
in  the  cabin,  cross-legged,  smoking,  and  he  said  to  me — 

"  AYhen  you  go  down  to  Savannah,  I  want  you  to  go  to 
my  house,  and  I  will  take  care  of  you." 

I  thought,  continued  the  negro,  "Yes,  you  will  take 
care  of  me  when  you  get  me  there."  I  raised  my  hat, 
and  said — 

"  Yes,  sir,  thank  you." 

But  afterwards  I  said  to  Billy  (the  German),  "I  am 
not  going  to  Charleston  a  live  man ;  they  may  take  me 
there  dead." 

He  had  been  told  by  the  prize-master  that  he  would 
get  rewarded  in  Charleston  for  performing  his  duty  so 
well  in  bringing  the  schooner  in.  He  also  heard  con- 
versation, not  intended  for  his  ears,  in  regard  to  the  price 
he  would  probably  bring;  and  he  had  heard  the  prizj- 
master  say  to  one  of  his  men — 

"  You  talk  to  that  steward  and  keep  him  in  good  heart. 

By "  said  the  prize-master,  "  he  will  never  see  the 

North  again." 

Tillman  conferred  with  two  of  the  seamen  about  taking 
possession  of  the  schooner;  but  they  declined  adopting 
any  plan,  saying  that  none  of  them  knew  how  to  navigate 


24  THE  NEGRO  TILLMAN's  NARRATIVE. 

her  back  should  they  succeed  in  getting  control.  Till- 
man thought  the  matter  over  for  three  days,  and  then 
made  an  appeal  to  the  German,  and  said,  "If  you  are  a 
man  to  stick  to  your  word,  we  can  take  this  vessel  easy." 

Then  we  made  a  plan  that  I  was  to  go  to  my  berth, 
and  when  most  of  the  men  were  asleep  he  was  to  give 
me  some  sign,  or  awake  me.  We  tried  this  for  two 
nights,  but  no  good  chance  offered.  But  last  Tuesday 
night  we  caught  them  asleep,  and  we  went  to  work. 

The  mate  comes  to  my  berth  and  he  touches  me.  He 
says,  "  Now  is  your  time." 

I  went  into  my  room  and  got  my  hatchet.  The  first 
man  I  struck  was  the  captain.  He  was  lying  in  a  state- 
room on  the  starboard  side.  I  aimed  for  his  temple  as 
near  as  I  could,  and  hit  him  just  below  the  ear  with  the 
edge  of  the  hatchet.  With  that  he  made  a  very  loud 
shriek. 

The  passenger  jumped  up  very  much  in  a  fright,  I 
told  him  to  be  still ;  I  shall  not  hurt  a  hair  of  your  head. 
The  passenger  knew  what  I  was  up  to ;  he  never  said  a 
word  more,  I  walks  across  the  cabin  to  the  second 
mate's  room,  and  I  gave  him  one  severe  blow  in  the 
mole  of  the  head — that  is,  right  across  the  middle  of 
his  head,  I  didn't  stop  to  see  whether  he  was  dead  or 
no;  but  I  jumped  on  deck,  and  as  I  did  so,  the  mate, 
who  had  been  sleeping  on  the  companion-way,  started 
from  the  noise  he  had  heard  in  the  cabin. 

Just  as  he  arose  upon  his  feet,  I  struck  him  on  the 
back  of  the  head,  -Then  the  German  chap  jumped  over, 
and  we  "mittened"  on  to  him,  and  flung  him  over  the 
starboard  quarter. 

Then  we  went  down  stairs  into  the  cabin.  The  second 
mate  was  not  quite  dead.  He  was  sitting  leaning  against 
his  berth.  I  "  catched"  him  by  the  hair  of  the  head  with 
my  left  hand,  and  struck  him  with  the  hatchet  I  had  in 
my  right  hand.     I  told  this  young  German,  "  Well,  let's 


THE  NEGRO  TILLMAN 's  NARRATIVE.  25 

get  him  overboard  as  soon  as  -we  can,"  So  we  hauled 
him  over  on  to  the  cabin. 

He  was  not  quite  dead,  but  he  would  not  have  lived 
long.  We  flung  hini  over  the  starboard  quarter.  Then 
I  told  this  German  to  go  and  call  that  man  Jim,  the 
southern  chap  (one  of  the  pirates),  here.  He  called  him 
aft. 

Says  I,  "  Jim,  come  down  here  in  the  cabin.  Do  you 
know  that  I  have  taken  charge  of  this  vessel  to-night  ? 
I  am  going  to  put  you  in  irons." 

"  Well,"  says  he,  "  I  am  willing." 

He  gave  right  up.  I  kept  him  in  irons  till  8  o'clock 
the  next  morning.  I  then  sent  the  German  for  him,  and 
I  said — 

'•Smith  (the  name  Milnor  went  by  on  board),  I  want 
you  to  join  us  and  help  take  this  vessel  back.  But  mind, 
the  least  crook  or  the  least  turn,  and  overboard  you  go 
with  the  rest." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "I  will  do  the  best  I  can."  And  he 
worked  well  all  the  way  back.  He  couldn'^t  do  other- 
wise.    It  was  pump  or  sink. 

They  didn't  have  any  chance  to  beg.  It  was  all  done 
in  five  minutes.  In  seven  minutes  and  a  half  after  I 
struck  the  first  blow  the  vessel  was  squared  away  before 
the  wind  and  all  sail  set.  We  were  fifty  miles  south  of 
Charleston,  and  one  hundred  to  the  eastward. 

Tillman  said  that  at  first  he  had  thought  of  securing  all 
the  men,  and  bringing  them  all  to  New  York  alive,  in 
irons  ;  but  he  found  this  was  impracticable.  To  use  his 
own  language,  "There  were  too  many  for  that — there 
were  five  of  them,  and  only  three  of  us." 

After  this,  I  said,  well,  1  will  get  all  back  I  can  alive, 
and  the  rest  I  will  kill.  Tillman  says  he  went  away  aa 
a  steward,  but  came  back  as  a  captain. 


26  ZAGONYl'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE. 


ZAGONYI'S  PAMOUS  OHAEGE. 

Among  the  foreign  officers  whom  the  fame  of  Gene- 
ral Fremont  drew  around  him,  was  Charles  Zagonyi, 
a  Hungarian  refugee,  but  long  a  resident  of  this  country. 
In  his  boyhood,  Zagonyi  had  plunged  into  the  passionate, 
but  unavailing  struggle  which  Hungary  made  for  lier 
liberty.  He  at  once  attracted  the  attention  of  General 
Bem,  and  was  by  him  placed  in  command  of  a  picked 
company  of  cavalry.  In  one  of  the  desperate  engagements 
of  the  war,  Zagonyi  led  a  charge  upon  a  large  artillery 
force.  More  than  half  of  his  men  were  slain.  He  was 
wounded  and  taken  prisoner.  Two  years  passed  before 
he  could  exchange  an  Austrian  dungeon  for  American 
exile. 

General  Fremont  welcomed  Zagonyi  cordially,  and 
authorized  him  to  recruit  a  company  of  horse  to  act  as 
his  body-guard.  Zagonyi  was  most  scrupulous  in  his 
selection ;  hut  so  ardent  was  the  desire  to  serve  under  the 
eye,  and  near  the  person  of  the  General,  that  in  five  days 
after  the  lists  were  opened  two  full  companies  were  en- 
listed. Soon  after  a  wholo  company,  composed  of  the 
very  flower  of  the  youth  of  Kentucky,  tendered  its  ser- 
vices, and  requested  to  be  added  to  the  Guard.  Zagonyi 
was  still  overwhelmed  with  applications,  and  he  obtained 
permission  to  recruit  a  fourth  company. 

The  fourth  company,  however,  did  not  go  with  us  into 
the  field.  The  men  were  clad  in  blue  jackets,  trousers, 
and  caps.  They  were  armed  with  light  German  sabres, 
the  best  that  at  that  time  could  be  procured,  and  revol- 
vers ;  besides  which,  the  first  company  carried  carbines. 
They  were  mounted  upon  bay  horses,  carefully  selected 
from  the  government  stables.  Zagonyi  had  but  little 
time  to  instruct  his  recruits,  but  in  less  than  a  month 
from  the  commencement  of  the  enlistments,  the  Body- 
Guard  was  a  well  disciplined  and  most  efficient  corps  of 


ZAQONYl'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE.  2t 

cavalry.  The  officers  were  all  American  except  three — 
one  Hollander,  and  two  Hungarians,  Zagonji  and  Lieu- 
tenant Mathenyi,  who  came  to  the  United  States  during 
his  boyhood. 

Zagonyi  left  our  camp  at  eight  o'clock  on  the  evening 
of  October  2-ith,  1861,  with  about  a  hundred  and  sixty 
men,  the  remainder  of  the  Guard  being  left  at  head-quar- 
ters under  the  command  of  a  non-commissioned  officer. 

Major  White  was  already  on  his  way  to  Springfield 
with  bis  squadron.  This  young  officer,  hardly  twenty- 
one  years  old,  had  won  great  reputation  for  energy  and 
zeal  while  a  captain  of  infantry  in  a  New  York  regiment 
stationed  at  Fort  ]\[onroe.  He  there  saAv  much  hazardous 
scouting  service,  and  had  been  in  a  number  of  engage- 
ments. In  the  West  he  held  a  position  upon  General 
Fremont's  staff,  with  the  rank  of  Major.  While  at  Jef- 
ferson City,  by  permission  of  the  General,  he  had  organized 
a  battalion  to  act  as  scouts  and  rangers,  composed  of  two 
companies  of  the  Third  Illinois  Cavalry,  under  Captains 
Fairbanks  and  Kehoe,  and  a  company  of  Irish  dragoons, 
Captain  Naughton,  which  had  been  recruited  for  Mulli- 
gan's brigade,  but  had  not  joined  Mulligan  in  time  to  be 
at  Lexington. 

Major  White  went  to  Georgetown,  in  advance  of  the 
whole  army,  from  there  marched  sixty-five  miles  in  one 
night  to  Lexington,  surprised  the  garrison,  liberated  a 
number  of  Federal  officers,  who  were  there  wounded  and 
prisoners,  and  captured  the  steamers  Avhich  Price  had 
taken  from  Mulligan.  From  Lexington  White  came  by 
way  of  Warrensburg  to  Warsaw.  During  this  long  and 
hazardous  expedition  the  Prairie  Scouts  had  been  with- 
out tents,  and  depended  for  food  upon  the  supplies  they 
could  take  from  the  enemy. 

Major  White  did  not  remain  at  Warsaw  to  recruit  his 
health,  seriously  impaired  by  hardship  and  exposure. 
He  asked  for  further  service,  and  was  directed  to  report 


28  ZAGONTl'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE. 

himself  to  General  Sie.crel,  by  ■whom  he  was  ordered  to 
make  a  reconnoissance  in  the  direction  of  Springfield. 

After  a  rapid  night-march,  Zagonyi  overtook  White, 
and  assumed  command  of  the  whole  force.  White  was 
quite  ill,  and,  unable  to  stay  in  his  saddle,  was  obliged  to 
follow  in  a  carriage.  In  the  morning,  yielding  to  the  re- 
quest of  Zagonyi,  he  remained  at  a  farmdiouse  where  the 
troop  had  halted  for  refreshment,  it  being  arranged  that 
he  should  rest  an  hour  or  two,  come  on  in  his  carriage 
with  a  small  escort,  and  overtake  Zagonyi  before  he 
reached  Springfield.  The  Prairie  Scouts  numbered  one 
hundred  and  thirty,  so  that  the  troop  was  nearly  three 
hundred  strong. 

The  day  was  fine,  the  road  good,  and  the  little  column 
pu5jhed  on  merrily,  hoping  to  surprise  the  enemy.  When 
within  two  hours'  march  of  the  town,  they  met  a  Union 
farmer  of  the  neighborhood,  who  told  Zagonyi  that  a 
large  body  of  rebels  arrived  at  Springfield  the  day  be- 
fore, on  their  way  to  reinforce  Price,  and  that  the  enemy 
were  now  two  thousand  strong. 

Zagonyi  Avould  have  been  justified  if  he  had  turned 
back.  But  the  Guard  had  been  made  the  subject  of  much 
malicious  remark,  and  had  brought  ridicule  upon  the 
General.  Should  they  retire  now,  a  storm  of  abuse  would 
burst  upon  them.  Zagonyi,  therefore,  took  no  counsel  of 
prudence.  He  could  not  hope  to  defeat  and  capture  the 
foe,  but  he  might  surprise  them,  dash  into  their  camp, 
destroy  their  train,  and,  as  he  expressed  it,  "disturb  their 
sleep,"  obtaining  a  victory  which,  for  its  moral  effects, 
would  be  worth  the  sacrifice  it  cost.  His  daring  resolve 
found  unanimous  and  ardent  assent  with  his  zealous  fol- 
lowers. 

The  Union  farmer  offered  to  guide  Zagonyi  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route  to  the  rear  of  the  rebel  position,  and  under 
his  guidance  he  left  the  main  road  about  five  miles  from 
Springfield, 

After  an  hour  of  repose,  White  set  out  in  pursuit  of  his 


lAGONYl'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE.  29 

men,  driving  his  "horses  at  a  gallop.  He  knew  nothing 
of  the  change  in  Zagonyi's  plans,  and  supposed  the  attack 
was  to  be  made  upon  the  front  of  the  town.  He  therefore 
continued  upon  the  main  road,  expecting  every  minute 
to  overtake  the  column.  As  he  drew  near  the  village, 
and  heard  and  saw  nothing  of  Zagonyi,  he  supposed  the 
enemv  had  left  the  place  and  the  Federals  had  taken  it 
Avithout  opposition.  The  approach  to  Springfield  from 
the  north  is  through  a  forest,  and  the  village  cannot  be 
Been  until  the  outskirts  are  reached.  A  sudden  turn  in 
the  road  brought  White  into  the  very  midst  of  a  strong 
rebel  guard.  They  surrounded  him,  seized  his  horses, 
and  in  an  instant  he  and  his  companion  were  prisoners. 

When  they  learned  his  rank,  they  danced  around  him 
like  a  pack  of  savages,  shouting  and  holding  their  cocked 
pieces  at  his  heart.  The  leader  of  the  party  had,  a  few 
days  before,  lost  a  brother  in  a  skirmish  with  Wyman's 
force,  and  with  loud  oaths  he  swore  that  the  Federal  Major 
should  die  in  expiation  of  his  brothel's  death.  He  was 
about  to  carry  his  inhuman  threat  into  execution,  Major 
White  boldly  facing  him  and  saying,  "  If  my  men  were 
here,  I'd  give  you  all  the  revenge  you  want." 

At  this  moment  a  young  officer,  Captain  Wroton  by 
name — of  whom  more  hereafter — pressed  through  the 
throng,  and  placing  himself  in  front  of  White,  declared 
that  he  would  protect  the  prisoner  with  his  own  life.  The 
firm  bearing  of  Wroton  saved  the  Major's  life,  but  his  cap- 
tors robbed  him  and  hurried  him  to  their  camp,  where  he 
remained  during  the  fight,  exposed  to  the  hottest  of  the 
fire,  an  excited,  but  helpless  spectator  of  the  stirring  events 
which  followed.  He  promised  his  generous  protector 
that  he  would  not  attempt  to  escape,  unless  his  men  should 
try  to  rescue  him ;  but  Captain  Wroton  remained  by  his 
side,  guarding  him. 

Making  a  detour  of  twelve  miles,  Zagonyi  approached 
the  position  of  the  enemy.  They  were  encamped  half  a 
mile  west  of  Springfield,  upon  a  hill  which  sloped  to  tha 


80  ZAGONTl'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE, 

east.  Along  the  northern  side  of  their  camp  was  a  broad 
and  well  travelled  road ;  along  the  southern  side,  a  nar- 
row lane  ran  down  to  a  brook  at  the  foot  of  the  hill ;  the 
space  between,  about  three  hundred  yards  broad,  was  the 
field  of  battle.  Along  the  west  side  of  the  field,  separat- 
ing it  from  the  county  fair  ground,  was  another  lane, 
connecting  the  main  road  and  the  first  mentioned  lane. 
The  side  of  the  hill  was  clear,  but  its  summit,  which  was 
broad  and  flat,  was  covered  with  a' rank  growth  of  small 
timber,  so  dense  as  to  be  impervious  to  horse. 

The  foe  were  advised  of  the  intended  attack.  When 
Major  White  was  brought  into  their  camp,  they  were 
preparing  to  defend  their  position.  As  appears  from  the 
confessions  of  prisoners,  they  had  twenty-two  hundred 
men,  of  whom  four  hundred  were  cavalry,  the  rest  being 
infantry,  armed  with  shot-guns,  American  rifles,  and  re- 
volvers. 

Twelve  hundred  of  their  foot  were  posted  along  the 
edge  of  the  wood  upon  the  crest  of  the  hill.  The  cavalry 
was  stationed  upon  the  extreme  left,  on  top  of  a  spur  of 
the  hill  and  in  front  of  a  patch  of  timber.  Sharpshooters 
were  concealed  behind  the  trees  close  to  the  fence  along- 
side the  lane,  and  a  small  number  in  some  underbrush  near 
the  foot  of  the  hill.  Another  detachment  guarded  tlieir 
train,  holding  possession  of  the  county  fair  ground,  which 
was  surrounded  by  a  high  board  fence. 

This  position  was  unassailable  by  cavalry  from  the  road, 
the  only  point  of  attack  being  down  the  lane  on  the  right ; 
and  the  enemy  were  so  disposed  as  to  command  this  ap- 
proach perfectly.  The  lane  was  a  blin<l  one,  being  closed, 
after  passing  the  brook,  by  fences  and  ploughed  land ;  it 
was  in  fact  a  cul  de  sac.  If  the  infantry  should  stand, 
nothing  could  save  the  rash  assailants.  There  are  horse- 
men sufficient  to  sweep  the  little  band  before  them,  as 
helplessly  as  the  withered  forest  leaves  in  the  grasp  of 
the  autumn  winds;  there  are  deadly  marksmen  lying 
behind  the  trees  upon  the  heights,  and  lurking  in  the  long 


EAGONYl'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE.  Sli 

grass  ■upon  tlie  lowlands ;  while  a  long  line  of  foot  stand 
upon  the  summit  of  the  slope,  who,  only  stepping  a  few 
paces  back  into  the  forest,  may  defy  the  boldest  riders. 
Yet  down  this  narrow  lane,  leading  into  the  very  jaws  of 
death,  came  the  three  hundred. 

On  the  prairie,  at  the  edge  of  the  woodland  in  which 
he  knew  his  wily  foe  lay  hidden,  Zagonyi  halted  his 
command.  He  spurred  along  the  line.  With  eager  glance 
he  scanned  each  horse  and  rider. 

To  his  officers  he  gave  the  simple  order,  "  Follow  me ! 
do  as  I  do !"  and  then,  drawing  up  in  front  of  his  men, 
with  a  voice  tremulous  and  shrill  with  emotion,  he  spoke  : 

"  Fellow  soldiers,  comrades,  brothers !  This  is  your 
first  battle.  For  our  three  hundred,  the  enemy  have  two 
thousand.  If  any  of  you  are  sick,  or  tired  by  the  long 
march,  or  if  any  think  the  number  is  too  great,  now  is 
the  time  to  turn  back." 

He  paused ;  no  one  was  sick  or  tired. 

"  We  must  not  retreat.  Our  honor,  the  honor  of  our 
General  and  our  country,  tell  us  to  go  on.  I  will  lead 
you.  We  have  been  called  holiday  soldiers  for  the  pave- 
ments of  St.  Louis  ;  to-day  we  will  show  that  we  are  sol- 
diers for  the  battle.  Your  watchword  shall  be, '  The  Zhilnn 
and  Fremont P  Draw  sabre!  By  the  right  flank — 
quick  trot— march  !" 

Bright  swords  flashed  in  the  sunshine,  a  passionate 
shout  burst  from  every  lip,  and  with  oije  accord,  the  trot 
passing  into  a  gallop,  the  compact  column  swept  on  its 
deadly  purpose. 

Most  of  them  were  boys.  A  few  weeks  before  they 
had  loft  their  homes.  Those  who  were  cool  enough  to 
note  it  say  that  ruddy  cheeks  grew  pale,  and  fiery  eyes 
were  dimmed  with  tears.  Who  shall  tell  what  thoughts 
— what  visions  of  peaceful  cottages  nestling  among  the 
groves  of  Kentucky,  or  shining  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Ohio  and  Illinois — what  sad  recollections  of  tearful  fare- 


82  ZAQONYl's  FAMOUS  CHARGE. 

wells,  of  tender,  loving  faces,  filled  their  minds  during 
those  fearful  moments  of  suspense  ? 

No  word  was  spoken.  With  lips  compressed,  firmly 
clenching  their  sword-hilts,  with  quick  tramp  of  hoofs 
and  clang  of  steel,  honor  leading  and  glory  awaiting  them, 
the  young  soldiers  flew  forward,  each  brave  rider  and 
each  straining  steed  members  of  one  huge  creature,  enor- 
mous, terrible,  irresistible. 

"  'Twere  worth  ten  years  of  peaceful  life, 
One  glance  at  their  array." 

They  pass  the  fair  ground.  They  are  at  the  corner  of 
the  lane  where  the  wood  begins.  It  runs  close  to  the 
fence  on  their  left  for  a  hundred  yards,  and  beyond  it 
they  see  white  tents  gleaming.  They  are  half-way  past 
the  forest,  when,  sharp  and  loud,  a  volley  of  musketry 
bursts  upon  the  head  of  the  column ;  horses  stagger, 
liders  reel  and  fall,  but  the  troop  presses  forward  undis- 
mayed. The  farther  corner  of  the  wood  is  reached,  and 
Zagonyi  beholds  the  terrible  array.  Amazed,  he  in- 
voluntarily checks  his  horse.  The  rebels  are  not  sur- 
prised. 

There  to  his  left  they  stand  crowning  the  height,  foot 
and  horse  ready  to  engulf  him,  if  he  shall  be  rash  enough 
to  go  on.  The  road  he  is  following  declines  rapidly. 
There  is  but  one  thing  to  do — run  the  gauntlet,  gain  the 
cover  of  the  hill,  and  charge  up  the  steep.  These 
thoughts  pass  quicker  than  they  can  be  told.  He  waves 
his  sabre  over  his  head,  and  shouting,  "  Forward !  follow 
me !  quick  trot !  gallop  I"  he  dashes  headlong  down  the 
stony  road.  The  first  company  and  most  of  the  second 
follow. 

From  the  left  a  thousand  muzzles  belch  forth  a  hissing 
flood  of  bullets ;  the  poor  fellows  clutch  wildly  in  the  air, 
and  fall  from  their  saddles,  and  maddened  horses  throw 
themselves  against  the  fences.  Their  speed  is  not  for  an 
instant  checked;   farther  down   the    hill  they  fly,  like 


ZAOONYI'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE.  33 

wasps  driven  by  the  leaden  storm.  Sharp  volleys  pour 
o\it  from  the  underbrush  at  the  left,  clearing  wide  gaps 
through  their  ranks.  They  leap  the  brook,  take  down  the 
fence,  and  draw  up  under  the  shelter  of  the  hill.  Zagonyi 
looks  around  him,  and  to  his  horror  sees  that  only  a  fourth 
of  iiis  men  are  with  him.  He  cries,  "  They  do  not  come 
— we  are  lost !"  and  frantically  waves  his  sabre. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait.  The  delay  of  the  rest  of  the 
Guard  was  not  from  hesitation.  When  Captain  Foley 
reached  the  lower  corner  of  the  wood  and  saw  the  enemy's 
line,  he  thought  a  flank  attack  might  be  advantageously 
made.  He  ordered  some  of  his  men  to  dismount  and  take 
down  the  fence.  This  was  done  under  a  severe  fire. 
Several  men  fell,  and  he  found  the  wood  so  dense  that  it 
could  not  be  penetrated. 

Looking  down  the  hill,  he  saw  the  flash  of  Zagonyi's 
sabre,  and  at  once  gave  the  order  "  Forward !"  At  the 
same  time  Lieutenant  Kennedy,  a  stalwart  Kentuckian, 
shouted  "  Come  on,  boys !  remember  Old  Kentucky !" 
and  the  third  company  of  the  Guard — fire  on  every  side 
of  them,  from  beliind  trees,  from  under  the  fences — with 
thundering  stride  and  long  cheers,  poured  down  the  slope 
and  rushed  to  the  side  of  Zagonyi.  They  have  seventy 
dead  and  wounded  men,  and  the  carcasses  of  horses  are 
strewn  along  the  lane.  Kennedy  is  wounded  in  the  arm 
and  lies  upon  the  stones,  his  faithful  charger  standing 
motionless  beside  him.  Lieutenant  Goft"  received  a 
wound  in  the  thigh;  he  kept  his  seat,  and  cried  out, 
"  The  devils  have  hit  me,  but  I  will  give  it  to  them  yet !" 
-  The  remnant  of  the  Guard  are  now  in  the  field  under 
the  hill,  and  from  the  shape  of  the  ground  the  rebel  fire 
sweeps  with  the  roar  of  a  whirlwind  over  their  heads. 
Here  we  will  leave  them  for  a  moment,  and  trace  the  for- 
tunes of  the  Prairie  Scouts. 

When  Foley  brought  his  troop  to  a  halt,  Captain  Fair- 
banks, at  the  head  of  the  first  company  of  Scouts,  was 
at  the  point  where  the  first  volley  of  musketiy  had  beeu 
3 


S4  ZAGONYl'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE. 

received.  The  narrow  lane  was  erowded  by  a  dease 
mass  of  struggling  horses,  and  filled  with  the  tumult  of 
battle.  Capiain  Fairbanks  says,  and  he  is  corroborated 
by  several  of  his  men  who  were  near,  that  at  this  moment 
an  officer  of  the  Guard  rode  up  to  him  and  said,  "They 
are  flying,  take  your  men  down  that  lane  and  cut  oft'  thei>» 
retreat" — pointing  to  the  lane  at  the  left.  Captain  Fair 
banks  was  not  able  to  identify  the  person  who  gave  thia 
order.  It  certainly  did  not  come  from  Zagonyi,  who  was 
several  hundred  yards  farther  on.  Captain  Fairbanks 
executed  the  order,  followed  by  the  second  company  of 
Prairie  Scouts,  under  Captain  Kehoe.  When  this  move- 
ment was  made,  Captain  Naughton,  with  the  Third  Irish 
Dragoons,  had  not  reached  the  corner  of  the  lane. 

He  came  up  at  a  gallop,  and  was  about  to  follow  Fair- 
banks, when  he  saw  a  Guardsm.an  who  pointed  in  the  di- 
rection in  which  Zagonyi  had  gone.  lie  took  this  for  an 
order,  and  obeyed  it.  When  he  reached  the  gap  in  the 
fence,  made  by  Foley,  not  seeing  anything  of  the  Guard, 
he  supposed  they  had  passed  through  at  that  place,  and 
gallantly  attempted  to  folluw.  Thirteen  men  fell  in  a  few 
minutes.  He  was  shot  in  the  arm,  and  dismounted. 
Lieutenant  Connolly  spurred  into  the  underbrush,  and 
received  two  balls  through  the  lungs  and  one  in  the  loft 
shoulder.  The  Dragoons,  at  the  outset  more  than  fifty 
strong,  were  broken  and  dispirited  by  the  loss  of  their 
officers,  and  retired.  A  sergeant  rallied  a  few,  and  brought 
them  up  to  the  gap,  again,  and  they  were  again  driven  back. 

Five  of  the  boldest  passed  down  the  hill,  joined  Zago- 
nyi, and  were  conspicuous  by  their  valor  during  the  rest 
of  the  day.  Fairbanks  and  Kehoe,  having  gained  the 
rear  and  left  of  the  enemy's  position,  made  two  or  three 
assaults  upon  detached  parties  of  the  foe,  but  did  not  join 
in  the  main  attack, 

I  now  return  to  the  Guard.  It  is  forming  under  the 
sbelter  of  the  hill.  In  front,  with  gentle  inclination,  rii^e^ 
a  grassy  slope,  broken  by  occasional  tree  stumps.     A  line 


ZAGONYI'S  FAMOUS  CHARQE,  35 

of  fire  upon  the  summit  marks  the  position  of  the  Rebel 
intantn%  and  nearer,  and  on  the  top  of  a  lower  eminence 
to  the  right,  stand  their  horse.  Up  to  this  time  no  Guards- 
man had  struck  a  blow,  but  blue  coats  and  bay  horses  lie 
thick  along  the  bloody  lane.  Their  time  has  come.  Lieu- 
tenant ^[athenyi,  with  thirty  men,  is  ordered  to  attack 
the  cavalry. 

With  sabres  flashing  over  their  heads,  the  little  band 
of  heroes  spring  towards  their  tremendous  foe.  Right 
upon  the  centre  they  charge.  The  dense  mass  opens,  the 
blue  coats  force  their  way  in,  and  the  whole  rebel  squad- 
ron scatters  in  disgraceful  flight  thi'ough  the  cornfields 
in  the  rear.  The  bays  follow  them,  sabring  the  fugitives. 
Days  after,  the  enemy's  horses  lay  thick  among  the  uncut 
corn. 

Zagonyi  holds  his  main  body  until  Mathenyi  disap- 
pears in  the  cloud  of  rebal  cavahy ;  then  his  voice  rises 
through  ihe  air: 

"In  open  order — charge!"' 

The  line  opens  out  to  give  play  to  their  sword-arm. 
Steeds  respond  to  the  ardor  of  their  riders,  and  quick  as 
thought,  with  thrilling  cheers,  the  noble  hearts  rush  into 
the  leaden  torrent  which  pours  down  the  incline.  W  ith 
unabated  fire  the  gallant  fellows  press  through.  Their 
fierce  onset  is  not  even  checked.  The  foe  do  not  wait 
for  them — they  waver,  break,  and  fly.  The  Guardsmen 
spur  into  the  midst  of  the  rout,  and  their  fast-falling  swords 
work  a  ten-ible  revenge.  Some  of  the  boldest  of  the 
Southrons  retreat  into  the  woods,  and  continue  a  mur- 
derous fire  from  behind  trees  and  thickets. 

Seven  Guard  horses  fall  upon  a  space  not  more  than 
twenty  feet  square.  As  his  steed  sinks  under  him,  one 
of  the  ofiicers  is  caught  around  the  shoulders  by  a  grape- 
vine, and  hangs  dangling  in  the  air  until  he  is  cut  down 
by  his  friends. 

The  rebel  foot  are  flying  in  furious  haste  from  the 
field.     Some  take  refuge  in  the  fair  ground,  some  hurry 


86  ZAQONYl'S  FAMOUS  CHARGE. 

into  the  cornfield,  but  the  greater  part  run  along  the  edge 
of  the  wood,  swarm  over  the  fence  into  the  road,  and 
hasten  to  the  village.  The  Guardsmen  follow.  Zagonyi 
leads  them.  Over  the  loudest  roar  of  battle  rings  his 
clarion  voice. 

"  Come  on,  Old  Kentuck  !  I'm  with  you  ! " 

And  the  flash  of  his  sword-blade  tells  his  men  where 
to  go.  As  he  approaches  a  barn,  a  man  steps  from  behind 
the  door  and  lowers  his  rifle ;  but,  before  it  has  reached 
the  level,  Zagonyi's  sabre-point  descends  upon  liis  head, 
and  his  life  blood  leaps  to  the  very  top  of  the  huge  barn- 
door. 

The  conflict  now  rages  through  the  village— in  the 
public  square  and  along  the  streets.  Up  and  down  the 
Guards  ride  in  squads  of  three  or  four,  and  wherever 
they  see  a  group  of  the  enemy  charge  upon  and  scatter 
them.  It  is  hand  to  hand.  No  one  but  has  a  share  in 
the  fray. 

There  was  at  least  one  soldier  in  the  Southern  ranks. 
A  young  officer,  superbly  mounted,  charges  alone  upon 
a  large  body  of  the  Guard,  lie  passes  through  the  line 
unscathed,  killing  one  man.  He  wlieels,  charges  back, 
and  again  breaks  through,  killing  another  man. 

A  third  time  he  rushes  upon  the  Federal  line,  a  score 
of  sabre-points  confront  him,  a  cloud  of  bullets  fly  around 
him,  but  he  presses  on  until  he  reaches  Zngonyi — he 
presses  his  pistol  so  close  to  the  Major's  side  that  he 
feels  it,  and  draws  convulsively  back ;  the  bullet  passes 
through  the  front  of  Zagonyi's  coat,  who  at  the  instant 
runs  the  daring  rebel  through  the  body  ;  he  falls,  and  the 
men,  thinking  their  commander  hurt,  kill  him  with  half 
a  dozen  wounds. 

''  He  was  a  brave  man,"  said  Zagonyi  afterwards,  "and 
I  did  wish  to  make  him  prisoner." 

Meanwhile  it  has  grown  dark.  The  foe  have  left  the 
village,  and  the  battle  has  ceased.  The  assembly  is 
Bounded,  and  the  Guard  gathers  in  the  Plaza.    Not  more 


ZAGONYI'S  FAMOUS  CnAROE.  St 

tTian  eiuhtj  mounted  men  appear;  the  rest  are  killed, 
wounded,  or  unhorsed.  At  this  time  one  of  the  most 
characteristic  incidents  of  tlie  affair  took  place. 

Just  before  the  charge,  Zagonyi  directed  one  of  his 
buglers,  a  Frenchman,  to  sound  a  signal.  The  bugler 
did  not  seem  to  pay  any  attention  to  the  order,  but  darted 
off  with  Lieutenant  Mathenyi.  A  few  moments  after- 
wards he  was  observed  m  another  part  of  the  field  vigor- 
ously pursuing  the  flying  infantry.  His  active  form  was 
always  seen  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight. 

When  the  line  was  formed  in  the  Plaza,  Zagonyi  no- 
ticed the  bugler,  and  approaching  him  said,  "  In  the  midst 
of  the  battle  you  disobeyed  my  order.  You  are  unwor- 
thy to  be  a  member  of  the  Guard.     I  dismiss  you," 

The  bugler  showed  his  bugle  to  his  indignant  com- 
mander— the  mouthpiece  of  the  instrument  Avas  shot 
away.  He  said,  "  The  mouth  was  shot  off'.  I  could  not 
bugle  viz  mon  bugle,  and  so  I  bugle  viz  mon  pistol  and 
sabre.  It  is  unnecessary  to  add  the  brave  Frenchman 
was  not  dismissed. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention  Sergeant  Hunter,  of  the 
KentQcky  company.  His  soldierly  figure  never  failed 
to  attract  the  eye,  in  the  ranks  of  the  Guard.  He  had 
served  in  the  regular  cavalry,  and  the  Body  Guard  had 
profited  greatly  from  his  skill  as  a  drill-master.  He  lost 
three  horses  in  the  fight.  As  soon  as  one  was  killed,  he 
caught  another  from  the  rebels.  The  third  horse  taken 
by  him  in  this  way  he  rode  into  St.  Louis. 

The  sergeant  slew  five  men.  "I  won't  speak  of  those 
I  shot,"  said  he — "  another  may  have  hit  them  ;  but  those 
I  touched  with  my  sabre  I  am  sure  of,  because  I  felt 
them." 

At  the  beginning  of  the  charge  he  came  to  the  extreme 
right,  and  took  position  next  to  Zagonyi,  whom  he  fol- 
lowed closely  through  the  battle.  The  Major  seeing  him, 
said : — 


33  ZAGONYl's  FAMOUS  CHARGE. 

"  Why  are  3^ou  here,  Sergeant  Hunter?  Your  place  is 
with  your  company  on  the  left." 

"  I  kind  o'  wanted  to  be  in  front,"  was  the  answer. 

"  What  could  I  say  to  such  a  man  ?"  exclaimed  Zago- 
nyi,  speaking  of  the  matter  afterwards. 

There  was  hardly  a  horse  or  rider  among  the  survivors 
that  did  not  bring  away  some  marlc  of  the  fray.  I  saw 
one  animal  with  no  less  than  seven  wounds — none  of  them 
serious.  Scabbards  were  bent,  clothes  and  caps  pierced, 
pistols  injured.  I  saw  one  pistol  from  which  the  sight 
had  been  cut  as  neatly  as  it  could  have  beea  done  by 
machinery.  A  piece  of  board  a  few  inches  long  was  cut 
from  a  fence  on  the  field,  in  which  there  were  thirty-one 
shot  holes. 

It  was  now  nine  o'clock.  The  wounded  had  been 
carried  to  the  hospital.  The  dismounted  troopers  were 
placed  in  charge  of  them— in  the  double  capacity  of 
nurses  and  guards.  Zagonyi  expected  the  foe  to  return 
every  minute.  It  seemed  like  madness  to  try  and  hold 
the  town  with  his  small  force,  exhausted  by  the  long 
march  and  desperate  fight.  He  therefore  left  Springfield, 
and  retired  before  morning  twenty-five  miles  on  the 
Bolivar  road. 

Captain  Fairbanks  did  not  see  his  commander  after 
leaving  the  column  in  the  lane  at  the  commencement  of 
the  engagement.  About  dusk  he  repaired  to  the  prairie, 
and  remained  there  within  a  mile  of  the  village  until 
midnight,  when  he  followed  Zagonyi,  rejoining  him  in 
the  morning. 

To  return  to  Major  White.  During  the  conflict  upon 
the  hill,  he  was  in  the  forest  near  the  front  of  the  rebel 
line.  Here  his  horse  was  shot  under  him.  Captain 
Wroton  kept  careful  watch  over  him.  When  the  fiight 
began  he  hurried  White  away,  and,  accompanied  by  a 
squad  of  eleven  men,  took  him  ten  miles  into  the  country. 
They  stopped  at  a  farm-house  for  the  night.  White  dis- 
covered that  their  host  was  a  Union  man. 


ZAGONYl'S  FAMOtrs  CHARGE.  S? 

Tlis  parole  having  expired,  he  took  advantage  of  the 
momentary  absence  of  his  captor  to  speak  to  the  farmer, 
telling  him  who  he  was,  and  asking  him  to  send  for 
assistance.  The  countryman  mounted  his  son  upon  his 
swiftest  horse,  and  sent  him  for  succor.  The  party  lay 
down  by  the  fire,  White  being  placed  in  the  midst.  The 
rebels  were  soon  asleep,  but  there  v/as  no  sleep  for  the 
Major. 

lie  listened  anxiously  for  the  footsteps  of  his  rescuers. 
After  long,  weary  hours,  he  heard  the  tramp  of  horses. 
He  arose,  and  walking  on  tiptoe,  cautiously  stepping  over 
his  sleeping  guards,  he  reached  the  door  and  silently  un- 
fastened it.  The  Union  men  rushed  into  the  room  and 
took  the  astonished  Wroton  and  his  followers  prisoners. 
At  daybreak  White  rode  into  Springfield  at  the  head  of 
his  captives  and  a  motley  band  of  Home  Guards.  He 
found  the  Federals  still  in  possession  of  the  place. 

As  the  officer  of  the  highest  rank  he  took  command. 
His  garrison  consiste<l  of  twenty-four  men.  He  stationed 
twentj'-two  of  them  as  pickets  in  the  outskirts  of  the  vil- 
lage, and  held  the  other  two  as  a  reserve.  At  noon  the 
enemy  sent  in  a  flag  of  truce  and  asked  permission  to 
bury  their  dead.  Major  White  received  the  flag  with 
proper  ceremony,  but  said  that  General  Sigel  was  in 
command,  and  the  request  would  have  to  be  referred  to 
him. 

Sigel  was  then  forty  miles  away.  In  a  short  time  a 
written  communication,  purporting  to  come  from  Gen, 
Sigel,  saying  that  the  rebels  might  send  a  party  under 
certain  restrictions  to  bury  tlieir  dead.  White  drew  in 
some  of  his  pickets,  stationed  them  about  the  field,  and 
under  their  surveillance  the  Southern  dead  were  buried. 

The  loss  of  the  enemy,  as  reported  by  some  of  their 
v,-orking  party,  was  one  hundred  and  sixteen  killed.  The 
number  of  wounded  could  not  be  ascertained.  After  the 
conflict  had  drifted  away  from  the  hillside,  some  of  thd 


40  THE  FEARFUL  ORDEAL. 

foe  had  returned  to  the  field,  taken  away  tlieir  wounded 
and  robbed  our  dead. 

The  loss  of  the  Guard  was  fifty-three  out  of  one  hun- 
dred and  forty-eight  actually  engaged,  twelve  men  having 
been  left  by  Zagonyi  in  charge  of  his  train.  The  Prairie 
Scouts  reported  a  loss  of  thirty-one  out  of  one  hundred 
and  thirty :  half  of  these  belong  to  the  Irish  Dragoons. 
In  a  neighboring  field  an  Irishman  was  found  stark  and 
stift'  still  clinging  to  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  which  was 
thrust  through  the  body  of  a  rebel  who  lay  beside  him. 
Within  a  few  feet  a  second  rebel  lay,  shot  through  the 
head. 

It  was  the  first  essay  of  raw  troops,  and  yet  there  are 
few  more  brilliant  achievements  in  history. 


THE  PEAEFUL  OEDEAL. 

A  private  in  a  certain  regiment  was  tried  by  a  court- 
martial  for  deserting  his  post,  and  found  guilty,  the  pun- 
ishment for  which  is  death.  His  execution  was  deferred 
for  some  time,  and  he  was  kept  in  a  painful  state  of  sus- 
pense. At  last  the  time  was  fixed  for  his  execution,  and 
five  regiments  were  drawn  up  in  line  to  witness  it,  while 
a  file  of  twelve  men  were  in  advance  to  execute  the  sen- 
tence of  death  by  shooting  him. 

The  prisoner  was  led  forA^i'ard  blindfolded,  and  the 
usual  words  of  preparation  and  command  were  given  in 
a  low,  measured  tone,  by  the  ofiicer  in  command. 

During  the  interval  between  the  commands,  "take  aim," 
and  "  fire,"  and  before  the  last  was  given,  a  horseman  rode 
rapidly  up  the  road,  waving  in  the  air  a  paper,  which 
was  understood  by  all  present  to  be  a  reprieve.  Covered 
with  dust  and  perspiration,  the  ofiicer  rode  hurriedly  up 
to  the  officer  in  command,  and  delivered  to  him  what 
really  proved  to  be  a  reprieve. 

The  shout  "  reprieve"  fell  upon  the  poor  soldier's  ear 


THE  FRIGHTENED  SPECULATORS.  41 

whicli  was  already  strnined  to  the  utmost  in  anticipation 
of  liearing  the  last  and  final  word  tliat  was  to  usher  his 
soul  into  the  presence  of  his  Creator ;  it  was  too  much 
for  him,  and  he  fell  back  upon  his  coffin  apparently 
dead. 

The  bandage  was  removed  from  his  eyes,  but  reason 
had  taken  its  flight,  and  he  became  a  hopeless  maniac. 
He  was  discharged  from  the  army,  and  sent  home  to  his 
friends.  His  death  had  really  never  been  intended  :  but 
it  was  deemed  necessary  for  the  good  order  and  discipline 
of  the  army  to  make  an  impression  upon  not  only  him- 
self, but  the  whole  brigade ;  for  that  purpose  the  forms 
of  the  execution  were  regularly  gone  through  with,  in 
presence  of  five  regiments,  and  the  reprieve  arrived  in 
good  time,  as  it  was  intended. 

It  was  sought  by  this  means  to  solemnly  impress  upon 
tlie  whole  assemblage  of  soldiers,  the  necessity  of  a 
strict  observance  of  duty  and  obedience,  under  the  penalty 
of  an  ignominious  death. 

Fearful,  indeed,  was  the  ordeal  through  which  the  de- 
serter passed. 


THE  rEIG-HTEUED  SPECULATOES. 

"While  the  Union  troops  occupied  Oxford,  Miss.,  a  very 
ridiculous  rumor  got  afloat  among  outsiders  that  a  tre- 
mendous rebel  army  was  marching  up  from  Grenada, 
and  a  few  of  the  cotton-buyers,  who  had  heard  of  the  bad 
fortunes  of  the  brethren  at  Holl}^  Springs,  became  very 
nervous.  The  troubles  of  one  nervous  pair  furnished 
merriment  for  hundreds. 

They  were  lodging  together  at  the  hotel,  and  like  cats 
slept  with  one  eye  and  both  ears  open.  They  had  gone 
to  bed  early  with  the  intention  of  getting  up  in  good 
season  and  leaving  the  town  with  the  first  division  of  the 
army.     They  had  just  dozed  oft'  in  uneasy  slumbers  when 


42  THE  FRIGHTENED  SPECULATORS. 

a  drum  was  beaten  at  rather  an  unusual  hour,  in  some 
one  of  our  distant  camps. 

"  0  my  Lord !"  says  Hammond,  "  there's  the  long  roll ! 
The  enemy  are  coming,  sure  enough !  There's  going  to 
be  a  battle  right  here  !     What  sliall  we  do  ?" 

Both  were  now  up  on  end,  listening  to  the  sound,  Th« 
drum  continued  to  roll,  and  as  the  wind  carried  the  sound 
about,  it  came  now  near  and  loud,  now  faint  and  far,  like 
the  sound  of  some  ghostly  drum  beaten  by  spirits  in  the 
air. 

Presently  a  stronger  gust  of  wind  brought  the  sound, 
apparently  right  under  their  window.  This  was  too  much. 
In  an  instant  they  were  on  their  feet,  hunting  distractedly 
in  the  dark  for  boots,  pantaloons,  coats,  etc. 

Hammond  was  so  "  clean  daft,"  as  the  Scotch  say,  that 
he  could  find  nothing  but  his  coat  (which  contained  his 
money)  and  his  spurs.  Some  fun-loving  acquaintance, 
or  the  boot-black  of  the  hotel,  if  the  hotel  was  guilty 
of  that  institution,  had  carried  off  his  boots.  After  a 
vain  search  for  them,  he  drew  on  the  coat,  clapped  ■  the 
spurs  on  his  stocking  feet,  and  started  down-stairs  for 
his  horse.  "But,"  says  Williams,  "  won't  the  guard  arrest 
us  if  we  are  out  after  night  without  the  countersign?" 

"Eh?"  "countersign!"  "guard!"  and  Hammond  paused 
for  an  instant  on  the  stairs.  Just  then  another  puff  of 
Mnnd  brought  the  sound  of  the  drum  from  the  distant 
hills ;  that  decided  the  matter ;  down-stairs  they  went, 
out  to  the  stable,  clapped  on  saddles  and  bridles,  mounted 
horse  and  away,  and  for  three  miles  out  from  the  north 
side  of  Oxford,"'  their  flight  from  the  sound  of  that  drum 
was  equal  to  Tarn  O'Shanter's  race  with  the  witches 
across  the  bridge. 

Toward  breakfast-time,  not  finding  the  road  full  of. 
crowds,  running  away  like  themselves,  and  the  woods 
around  looking  rather  guerrillaish,  they  concluded  that  it 
would  be  better  to  show  their  pluck  by  coming  back  to 
town. 


THE  DARING  SPY.  43 

Tlie  next  niglit,  one  of  the  pair,  Hammond,  determined  to 
have  more  courageous  company,  and  changed  his  lodging- 
pUice.  On  going  to  bed,  he  inquired  of  his  room-mate 
if  the  enemy  would  be  likely  to  search  a  man's  stockings 
for  money,  in  case  he  was  captured?  On  being  told  that 
they  probably  would  not  think  to  look  in  them,  he  stowed 
away  six  thousand  dollars  in  one  of  the  stockings,  which 
he  took  the  precaution  to  wear  on  his  feet  during  the 
night 

In  the  morning  he  had  forgotten  where  he  had  put 
the  money,  and  went  to  a  mutual  friend  of  himself,  and  his 
room-mate,  with  a  grievous  story  of  his  room-mate  having 
robbed  him.  Attention  was,  however,  called  to  his  bank 
of  deposits,  and  the  matter  satisfactorily  adjusted. 


TKE  daehtg  spy. 

"John  Morford" — so  let  us  call  him,  good  reader — 
was  born  near  Augusta,  Georgia,  of  Scotch  parents,  in 
the  year  1832.  A  blacksmith  by  trade,  he  early  engaged 
in  railroading,  and  at  the  commencement  of  the  rebellion 
was  master-mechanic  upon  a  prominent  Southern  road. 
Beinor  a  strong  Union  man,  and  making  no  secret  of  it, 
he  was  discharged  from  his  situation  and  not  allowed 
employment  upon  any  other  railroad.  A  company  of 
cavalry  was  also  sent  to  his  farm  and  stripped  it.  Ag- 
grieved at  this  wholesale  robbery,  Morford  went  to  John 
II.  Morgan,  then  a  captain,  and  inquired  if  he  would  not 
pay  him  for  the  property  thus  taken.  Morgan  replied 
that  he  should  have  his  pay  if  he  would  only  prove  his 
loyalty  to  the  South.  Morford  acknowledged  this  to  be 
impossible,  and  Avas  thereupon  very  liberally  cursed  and 
villified  by  ^torgan,  who  accused  him  of  harboring  ne- 
groes and  traitors,  and  threatened  to  have  him  shot. 
Finally,  however,  he  was  content  with  simply  arresting 


44  THE  DARING  SPY. 

him  and  sending  him,  charged  with  disloyalty,  to  on6 
Major  Peyton. 

The  major  seems  to  have  been  a  somewhat  talkative 
and  argumentative  man  ;  for  upon  Morford's  arrival  he 
endeavored  to  reason  him  out  of  his  adherence  to  the 
Union,  askino^  him,  in  the  course  of  a  lena-thv  conver.sa- 
tion,  many  questions  about  the  war,  demonstrating,  to  liis 
own  satisfiiction  at  least,  the  necessity  and  justice  of  the 
position  assumed  by  the  seceded  States,  and  finishing,  by 
way  of  clenching  the  argument,  with  the  inquiry.  "How 
can  you,  a  Southern  man  by  birth  and  education,  be  op- 
posed to  the  South  ?"  Alorford  replied  that  he  saw  no 
reason  for  the  rebellion,  that  the  Union  was  good  -enough 
for  him,  that  he  should  cling  to  it,  and,  if  he  could  obtain 
a  pass,  would  abandon  the  Confederacy  and  cast  his  lot 
with  the  North.  The  Major  then  argued  still  more  at 
length,  and,  as  a  last  resort,  endeavored  to  frighten  him 
with  a  vivid  description  of  the  horrors  of  "  negro  equality" 
— to  all  of  which  his  hearer  simply  replied  that  he  was 
not  afraid ;  whereupon,  as  unskilful  advocates  of  a  bad 
cause  are  prone  to  do,  he  became  very  wrathy,  vented 
his  anger  in  a  torrent  of  oaths  and  vile  epithets,  and  told 
Morford  that  he  ought  to  be  hung,  and  should  be  in  two 
weeks.  The  candidate  for  hempen  honors,  apparently 
not  at  all  alarmed,  coolly  replied  that  he  was  sorry  for 
that,  as  he  wished  to  live  a  little  longer,  but,  if  it  must 
be  so,  he  couldn't  help  it.  Peyton,  meanwhile,  cooled 
down,  and  told  him  that  if  he  would  give  a  bond  of  one 
thousand  dollars  and  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the 
Southern  Confederacy,  he  would  release  him  and  protect 
his  property.  After  some  hesitation — no  other  plan  of 
escape  occurring  to  him — Morlbrd  assented,  and  took  tlie 
required  oath,  upon  the  back  of  which  Peyton  wrote,  "If 
you  violate  this,  I  will  hang  you." 

With  this  safea^uard,  Morford  returned  to  his  farm  and 
lived  a  quiet  life.  Buying  a  span  of  horses,  he  devoted 
himself  to  the  cultivation  of  his  land,  seeing  as  few  per- 


THE  BARING  SPY.  45 

sons  as  he  could,  and  talking  with  none.  Ilis  house  had 
previously  been  the  head-quarters  of  the  Union  men,  but 
was  now  deserted  by  them  ;  and  its  owner  endeavored  to 
live  up  to  the  letter  of  the  obligation  he  had  taken.  For  a 
short  time  all  went  well  enough ;  but  one  day  a  squad  of 
cavalry  came  with  a  special  written  order  from  Major 
Pevton  to  take  his  two  horses,  which  they  did.  This 
w'as  too  much  for  human  nature  ;  and  Moribrd,  perceiving 
that  no  faith  could  be  placed  in  the  assurances  of  those 
in  command,  determined  to  be  revenged  upon  them  and 
their  cause.  His  house  again  became  a  secret  rendezvous 
for  Unionists  ;  and  by  trusty  agents  he  managed  to  send 
regular  and  valuable  information  to  General  Buell,  then 
in  command  in  Tennessee.  At  length,  however,  in  May, 
1862,  he  was  betrayed  by  one  in  whom  he  had  placed 
confidence,  and  arrested  upon  the  charge  of  sending  in- 
formation to  General  Crittenden,  at  Battle  Creek.  He 
indignantly  denied  the  charge,  and  declared  that  lie  could 
easily  prove  himself  innocent  if  released  for  that  purpose. 
After  three  days'  confinement,  this  was  assented  to;  and 
Morford,  knowing  full  well  that  he  coukl  not  do  what  he 
had  promised,  made  a  hasty  retreat  and  fled  to  the  moun- 
tains, whence,  some  days  afterwards,  he  emerged,  and 
went  to  McMinnville,  at  which  place  General  Nelson  was 
then  in  command. 

Here  he  remained  until  the  rebel  force  left  that  vici- 
nity, when  he  again  went  home,  and  lived  undisturbed 
upon  his  farm  until  Bragg  returned  with  his  army.  The 
presence  in  the  neighborhood  of  so  many  officers  cog- 
nizant of  his  former  arrest  and  escape  rendered  flight  a 
second  time  necessary.  He  now  went  to  the  camp  of 
General  Donelson,  with  whom  he  had  some  acquaintance, 
and  soon  became  very  friendly  there — acting  the  while 
in  the  double  capacity  of  beef-contractor  for  the  rebel 
army  and  spy  for  General  Crittenden.  Leaving  General 
Donelson  after  some  months'  stay,  although  earnestly  re- 
quested to  remain  longer,  Morford  next  found  his  way 


46  THE  DARING  SPY. 

to  Nashville,  where  he  made  numerous  expeditions  as  a 
spy  for  General  Neglej.  Buell  was  at  Louisville,  and 
Nashville  was  then  the  Federal  outpost.  Morford  tra- 
velled about  very  readily  upon  passes  given  him  by 
General  Donelsou,  making  several  trips  to  Murlreea- 
borough  and  one  to  Cumberland  Gap. 

Upon  his  return  from  the  latter,  he  was  arrested  near 
Lebanon,  Tennessee,  about  one  o'clock  at  night,  by  a  party 
of  four  soldiers  upon  picket-duty  at  that  point.  Halting 
him,  the  following  conversation  occurred  : — 

"  Where  do  you  live?" 

"Near  Stewart's  Ferry,  between  here  and  Nashville." 

"  Where  have  you  been,  and  what  for  ?"' 

"Up  to  see  my  brother,  to  get  from  him  some  jeans 
cloth  and  socks  for  another  brother  in  the  Confederate 
army.'' 

"  How  does  it  happen  you  are  not  in  the  army  your- 
self?    That  looks  rather  suspicious." 

"Oh,  I  live  toe  near  the  Federal  lines  to  be  con- 
scripted." 

"  Well,  we'll  have  to  send  you  to  Murfreesborough.  I 
reckon  you're  all  right;  but  those  are  our  orders,  and 
we  can't  gO  behind  them." 

To  this  Morford  readily  consented,  saying  he  had  no 
objection ;  and  the  party  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  talked 
in  a  friendly  manner  for  some  time.  Morford  soon  re- 
membered that  he  had  a  bottle  of  brandy  with  him,  and 
generously  treated  the  crowd.  Further  conversation  was 
followed  by  a  second  drink,  and  soon  by  a  third.  One 
of  the  party  now  proposed  to  exchange  his  Rosinantish 
mare  for  a  fine  horse  wliich  Morford  rode.  The  latter 
was  not  inclined  to  trade;  but  objection  was  useless,  and 
he  finally  yielded,  receiving  seventy-five  dollars  in  Con- 
federate money  and  the  mare.  The  trade  pleased  the 
soldier,  and  a  present  of  a  pair  of  socks  still  further  en- 
hanced his  pleasure.  His  companions  were  also  similarly 
favored,  and  testified  their  appreciation  of  the  gift  by 


THE  DARING  SPY.  4T 

endeavoring  to  purchase  the  balance  of  Morford's  stock. 
He  would  not  sell,  however,  as  he  wished  to  send  thein 
to  his  brother  at  Richmond,  by  a  person  who  had  given 
public  notice  that  he  was  soon  going  there,  A  fourth 
drink  made  all  supremely  happy;  at  which  juncture 
their  prisoner  asked  permission  to  go  to  a  friend's  house, 
Dnly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  and  stay  until  morning,  when 
ne  would  go  with  them  to  Murfreesborough.  His  friend 
of  the  horse  trade,  now  very  mellow,  thought  he  need 
not  go  to  Murfreesborough  at  all,  and  said  he  would  see 
what  the  others  said  about  it.  Finally  it  was  concluded 
that  he  was  "  right,"  and  might  go ;  whereupon  he  mounted 
the  skeleton  mare  and  rode  rejoicingly  into  Nashville. 

On  his  next  trip  southward  he  was  arrested  by  Colonel 
John  T.  Morgan,  just  as  he  came  out  of  the  Federal  lines, 
and,  as  his  only  resort,  joined  Forrest's  command,  and 
was  furnished  with  a  horse  and  gun.  The  next  day 
Forrest  made  a  speech  to  his  men,  and  told  them  that 
they  were  now  going  to  capture  Nashville.  The  column 
immediately  began  its  march,  and  Aiorford,  by  some 
means,  managed  to  have  himself  placed  in  the  advance. 
Two  miles  below  Lavergne  a  halt  for  the  night  was  made; 
but  Morford's  horse  was  unruU^,  and  could  not  be  stopped, 
carrying  its  rider  ahead  and  out  of  sight.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  that  this  obstinacy  was  not  overcome  until 
Nashville  was  reached,  nor  that  when  Forrest  came,  the 
next  day.  General  Negley  was  amply  pr^^ared  for  him. 

At  this  time  Nashville  was  invested.  Buell  was  known 
to  be  advancing  towards  the  city,  but  no  scouts  had  been 
able  to  go  to  or  come  from  him.  A  handsome  reward  was 
offered  to  any  one  who  would  carry  a  despatch  safely 
through  to  Bowling  Green,  and  Morford  undertook  to 
do  it.  Putting  the  document  under  the  lining  of  his 
boot,  he  started  for  Gallatin,  where  he  arrived  safely. 

For  some  hours  he  sauntered  around  the  place,  lounged 
in  and  out  of  bar  rooms,  made  friends  with  the  rebel  sol- 
diers, and,  towards  evening  purchased  a  small  bag  of 


48  THE  DARIiVG  SPY. 

corn-meal,  a  bottle  of  whiskey,  a  pound  or  two  of  salt, 
and  some  smaller  articles,  which  he  threw  across  his 
shoulder  and  started  up  the  Louisville  road,  with  hat  on 
one  side,  hair  in  admirable  disorder,  and,  apparently, 
gloriously  drunk.  The  pickets  jested  at  and  made  sport 
of  him,  but  permitted  him  to  pass.  The  meal,  etc.  was 
carried  six  miles,  when  he  suddenly  became  sober,  drop' 
ped  it,  and  hastened  on  to  Bowling  Green,  and  there 
met  General  Rosecrans,  who  had  just  arrived.  His  in- 
formation was  very  valuable.  Here  he  remained  until 
the  army  came  up  and  passed  on,  and  then  set  out  on 
his  return  on  foot  as  he  had  come.  He  supposed  that 
our  forces  had  gone  by  way  of  Gallatin,  but  when  near 
that  place  learned  that  it  was  still  in  possession  of  the 
rebels,  and  so  stopped  for  the  night  in  a  shanty  between 
Morgan's  pickets,  on  the  north  side,  and  Woolford's 
(Union),  on  the  south  side.  During  the  night  the  two 
had  a  fight,  wdiich  finally  centred  around  the  shanty,  and 
resulted  in  driving  Morford  to  the  woods.  In  two  or 
three  hours  he  came  back  for  his  clothes,  and  found  that 
the  contending  parties  had  disappeared,  and  that  the 
railroad-tunnels  had  been  filled  with  wood,  and  fired. 
Hastily  gathering  his  effects  together,  he  made  his  way 
to  Tyrec  Springs,  and  thence  to  Nashville. 

I'or  a  short  time  he  acted  as  a  detective  of  the  Army 
Police  at  Nashville,  assuming  the  character  of  a  rebel 
soldier,  and  living  in  the  families  of  prominent  secession- 
ists. In  this  work  he  was  very  successful ;  but  it  had 
too  little  of  danger  and  adventure,  and  he  returned  again 
to  scouting,  making  several  trips  southward,  sometimes 
without  trouble,  but  once  or  twice  being  arrested,  and 
escaping  as  best  he  could.  In  these  expeditions  he  vis- 
ited McMinnville,  Murfreesborough,  Altamont,  on  the 
Cumberland  Mountains,  Bridgeport,  Chattanooga,  and 
other  places  of  smaller  note.  He  travelled  usually  in 
the  guise  of  a  smuggler,  actually  obtaining  orders  for 
goods  from  prominent  rebels,  and  sometimes  the  money 


THE  DARING  SPY.  49 

in  advance,  filling  them  in  Nashville,  and  delivering  the 
articles  upon  his  next  trip.  Just  before  the  battle  of 
Stone  River  he  received  a  large  order  to  be  filled  for  the 
rebel  hospitals,  went  to  Nashville,  procured  the  medicine, 
and  returned  to  McMinnville,  when  he  delivered  some  of 
it.  Thence  he  travelled  to  Bradyville,  and  thence  to 
^[urfreesborough,  arriving  there  just  as  the  battle  began. 
Presenting  some  of  the  surgeons  with  a  supply  of  mor- 
phine, he  assisted  them  in  attending  the  wounded  for  a 
day  or  two,  and  then  went  to  a  hospital  tent  in  the  woods 
near  the  railroad,  where  he  also  remained  one  day  and 
part  of  another.  The  fight  was  now  getting  hot,  and, 
fearful  that  somebody  would  recognize  him,  he  left  Mur- 
freesborough  on  Friday,  and  went  to  McMinnville.  .  He 
had  been  there  but  little  more  than  an  hour,  having 
barely  time  to  put  up  his  horse  and  step  into  a  house 
near  by  to  see  some  wounded  men,  when  two  soldiers 
arrived  in  search  of  him.  Their  description  of  him  was 
perfect ;  but  he  escaped  by  being  out  of  sight — the  friend 
with  whom  he  was  supposed  to  be,  declaring,  though 
closely  questioned,  that  he  had  not  seen  and  knew 
nothing  of  him.  In  a  few  minutes  pickets  were  thrown 
out  around  the  town,  and  it  was  two  days  before  he 
could  get  away.  Obtaining  a  pass  to  Chattanooga  at 
last,  only  through  the  influence  of  a  lady  acquaintance, 
with  it  he  passed  the  guards,  but,  when  once  out  of  sight, 
turned  off  from  the  Chattanooga  road,  and  made  his  way 
safely  to  Nashville. 

General  Rosecrans  was  now  in  possession  of  Murfrees- 
borough,  and  thither  Morford  proceeded  with  some  smug- 
gler's goods,  with  a  view  to  another  trip.  The  necessary 
permission  was  readily  obtained,  and  he  set  out  for 
Woodbury.  Leaving  his  wagon  outside  the  rebel  lines, 
he  proceeded  on  foot  to  McMinnville,  arriving  there  on 
the  19tli  of  January  last,  and  finding  General  John  II. 
Morgan,  to  whom  he  represented  himself  as  a  former 
resident  in  the  vicinity  of  Woodbury;  his  family,  how- 
4 


50  THE  DARING  SPY. 

e^'er,  had  moved  aAvay,  and  he  would  like  permission  to 
take  his  wagon  and  bring  away  the  household  goods. 
This  was  granted,  and  the  wagon  brought  to  McMinnville, 
whence  Moribrd  went  to  Chattanooga,  representing  himself 
along  the  road  as  a  fusritive  from  the  Yankees.  Near 
Chattanooga  he  began  selling  his  goods  to  Unionists  and 
rebels  alike,  at  enormous  prices,  and  soon  closed  them 
out  at  a  profit  of  from  four  hundred  to  five  hundred  dol- 
lars. At  Chattanooga  he  remained  a  few  days,  obtained 
all  the  information  he  could,  and  returned  to  Murfrees- 
borough  without  trouble. 

His  next  and  last  trip  is  the  most  interesting  and 
daring  of  all  his  adventures.  Making  a  few  days'  stay 
in  Murfreesborough,  he  Avent  to  McMinnville,  and  re- 
mained there  several  clays,  during  which  time  he  burned 
Hickory  Creek  Bridge,  and  sent  a  report  of  it  to  General 
Ii(isecrans.  This  he  managed  with  so  much  secrecy  and 
skill  as  to  escape  all  suspicion  of  complicity  in  the  Avork, 
mingling  freely  Avith  the  citizens  and  talking  the  matter 
over  in  all  its  phases.  From  McMinnville  Morford  pro- 
cee<led  to  Cha'.tanooga,  and  ren)aiaed  there  nearly  a  Aveek, 
Av'tien  he  learned  that  three  of  our  scouts  Avere  imprisoned 
in  the  Harndtoii  County  jail,  at  Harrison,  Tennessee,  and 
were  to  be  shot  on  the  first  Friday  in  ^May,  Determined 
to  attempt  their  rescue,  he  sent  a  Union  man  to  the  town 
to  ascertain  who  Avas  jailer,  Avhat  the  number  of  the  guards, 
how  they  Avere  placed,  and  inquire  into  the  condition  of 
things  in  general  about  the  jail.  Upon  receipt  of  his  report, 
Morford  gathered  about  him  nine  Union  men,  on  the  night 
of  Tuesday,  April  21,  and  started  for  Harrison.  Before 
reaching  the  place,  hoAvever,  they  heard  rumors  that  the 
guard  had  been  greatly  strengthened ;  and,  fearful  that 
it  would  prove  too  powerful  for  them,  the  party  retreated 
to  the  mountains  on  the  north  side  of  the  Tennessee  Eiver, 
where  they  remained  concealed  until  Thursday  night. 
On  Wednesday  night  the  same  man  Avho  had  previously 
gone  to  the  town  Avas  again  sent  to  reconnoitre  the  posi- 


THE  DARING  SPY.  51 

tion.  Thursday  morning  he  returned  and  said  that  tlie 
story  of  a  strong  guard  was  ail  false  :  there  were  but  two 
in  addition  to  the  jailer. 

Morford's  party  was  now  reduced  to  six,  including 
himself:  but  he  resolved  to  make  the  attempt  that  night. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  all  went  down  to  tlie  river  and 
loitered  around  until  dark,  when  they  procured  boats  and 
crossed  to  the  opposite  bank.  Taking  the  Chattanooga 
and  Harrison  road,  they  entered  the  town,  looked  around 
at  leisure,  saw  no  soldiers  nor  anything  unusual,  and 
])roceeded  towards  the  jail.  Approaching  quite  near, 
they  threw  themselves  upon  the  ground  and  surveyed  the 
premises  carefully.  The  jail  was  surrounded  by  a  high 
board  fence,  iu  which  were  two  gates.  Morford's  plan  of 
operations  was  quickly  arranged.  Making  a  prisoner  of 
one  of  his  own  men,  he  entered  the  inclosure,  posting  a 
sentinel  at  each  gate.  Once  inside,  a  light  was  visible  in 
the  jail,  and  Morford  marched  confidently  up  to  the  door 
and  rapped.  The  jailer  thrust  his  head  out  of  a  window 
and  asked  wdiat  was  wanted.  He  was  told,  ''  Here  is  a 
prisoner  to  put  in  the  jail,"  Apparently  satisfied,  the 
jailer  soon  opened  the  door  and  admitted  the  twain  into 
the  entry.  In  a  moment,  however,  he  become  alarmed, 
and,  hastily  exclaiming,  "  Ilold  on  !"  stepped  out. 

For  ten  minutes  ^lorford  waited  patiently  for  his  return, 
supposing,  of  course,  that  he  could  not  escape  from  the 
yard,  both  gates  being  guarded,  Not  making  his  appear- 
ance, it  was  found  that  the  pickets  had  allowed  him  to 
j)ass  them.  This  rather  alarming  fact  made  haste  neces- 
sary, and  Morford,  returning  to  the  jail,  said  he  must  put 
his  prisoner  in  immediately,  and  demanded  the  keys  forth- 
with. The  women  declared  in  positive  terms  that  they 
hadn't  them,  and  did  not  know  Avhere  they  were.  One 
of  the  guards  was  discovered  in  bed  and  told  to  get  the 
keys.  Proving  rather  noisy  and  saucy,  he  was  remind'^d 
that  he  might  get  his  head  taken  off  if  he  were  not  quiet 
— which  intimation  eflectually  silenced  him.     Morford 


52  THE  DARING  SPY. 

again  demanded  the  keys,  and  the  women,  somewhat 
friprhtened,  gave  him  the  key  to  the  outside  door.  Un- 
locking it,  and  lighting  up  the  place  with  candles,  he  found 
himself  in  a  room  around  the  sides  of  which  was  ranged 
a  line  of  wrouo;ht-iron  casres.  -In  one  of  these  were  five 
persons,  four  white  and  one  negro.  Carrying  out  the 
character  he  had  assumed  of  a  rebel  soldier  in  charge  of 
a  prisoner,  Morford  talked  harshly  enough  to  the  caged 
men,  and  threatened  to  hang  them  at  once,  at  which  they 
were  very  naturally  alarmed,  and  began  to  beg  for  mercy. 
For  a  third  time  the  keys  to  the  inner  room,  in  which  the 
scouts  were,  were  demanded,  and  a  third  time  the  women 
denied  having  them.  An  axe  was  then  ordered  to  be 
brought,  but  there  was  none  about  the  place :  so  said  they. 
Morford  saw  that  they  were  trifling  with  him,  and  deter- 
mined to  stop  it.  Snatching  one  of  the  jailer's  boys 
standing  near  by  the  collar,  and  drawing  his  sabre,  he 
told  him  he  would  cut  his  head  off  if  he  did  not  bring 
him  an  axe  in  two  minutes.  This  had  the  desired  effect, 
and  the  axe  was  forthcoming. 

^Morford  now  began  cutting  away  at  the  lock,  when  he 
was  startled  by  hearing  the  word  "halt!"  at  the  gate. 
Of  his  five  men  two  were  at  the  gates,  two  were  inside  as 
a  guard,  and  one  was  holding  the  light.  Ready  for  a 
fight,  he  went  out  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  The  sen- 
tinel reporting  that  he  had  halted  an  armed  man  outside, 
Morford  walked  out  to  him  and  demanded — 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  with  that  gun  ?" 

"Miss  Laura  said  you  were  breaking  down  the  jail,  and 
I  want  to  see  McAllister,  the  jailer.  Where  is  he  ?"  was 
the  reply. 

"  Well,  suppose  I  am  breaking  down  the  jail :  what 
are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"I  am  going  to  stop  it  if  I  can." 

"  What's  your  name  ?" 

"Lowry  Johnson." 

By  this  time  Morford  had  grasped  the  muzzle  of  the 


THE  DARING  SPY.  63 

gun,  and  tokl  him  to  let  go.  Instead  of  complying, 
Johnson  tried  to  pull  it  away ;  but  a  blow  upon  the  neck 
from  Morford's  sabre  soon  made  him  drop  it.  Morford 
now  began  to  search  him  for  other  weapons,  but  before 
he  had  concluded  the  operation  Johnson  broke  away, 
leaving  a  part  of  his  clothing  iu  Morford's  hands.  The 
latter  drew  his  revolver  and  pursued,  firing  five  shots  at 
him,  sometimes  at  a  distance  of  only  six  or  eight  paces. 
A  cry,  as  of  pain,  showed  that  he  was  struck,  but  he 
managed  to  reach  the  hotel  (kept  by  his  brother),  and, 
bursting  in  the  door,  which  was  fastened,  escaped  into 
the  house.  Morford  followed,  but  too  late.  Johnson's 
brother  now  came  out  and  rang  the  bell  in  front,  which 
gathered  a  crowd  about  the  door ;  but  Morford,  not  at  all 
daunted,  told  them  that  if  they  wanted  to  guard  the  jail 
they  had  better  be  about  it  quick,  as  he  was  going  to 
burn  it  and  the  town  in  the  bargain.  This  so  frightened 
them  that  no  further  demonstration  was  made,  and  Mor- 
ford returned  to  the  jail  unmolested.  There  he  and  his 
men  made  so  much  shouting  and  hurrahing  as  to  frighten 
the  people  of  the  town  beyond  measure ;  and  many  lights 
from  upper-story  windows  were  extinguished,  and  the 
streets  were  deserted. 

A  half- hour's  work  was  necessary  to  break  oflfthe  out- 
side lock,  a  splendid  burglar-proof  one.  Morford  now 
discovered  that  the  door  was  double,  and  that  the  inner 
one  was  made  still  more  secure  by  being  barred  with  three 
heavy  log-chains.  These  were  cut  in  two  with  the  axe; 
but  the  strong  lock  of  the  door  still  remained.  He  again 
demanded  the  key,  and  told  the  women  if  it  w^as  not 
produced  he  would  murder  the  whole  of  them.  The 
rebel  guard.  Lew.  Luttrell  by  name,  was  still  in  bed, 
Eising  up,  he  said  that  the  key  was  not  there.  Morford 
now  ordered  Luttrell  to  get  out  of  bed,  in  a  tone  so 
authoritative  that  that  individual  deemed  it  advisable  to 
comply.  Scarcely  was  he  out,  however,  before  Morford 
struck  at  him  with  his  sabre ;  but  he  was  too  far  off,  and 


54  THE  D.VRING  SPY, 

the  blow  fell  upon  one  of  the  children,  drawing  some 
blood.  This  frightened  the  women,  and,  concluding  that 
he  was  about  to  put  his  threat  in  execution  and  would 
murder  them  surely  enough,  they  produced  the  key  with- 
out further  words.  No  time  was  lost  in  unlocking  the 
door  and  releasing  the  inmates  of  the  room.  Procuring 
their  clothes  for  them  and  arming  one  with  Johnson's  gun, 
the  whole  party  left  the  jail  and  hurried  towards  the 
river.  Among  the  released  prisoners  was  a  rebel  with  a 
wooden  leg,  the  original  having  been  shot  off  at  Manassas. 
He  persisted  in  accompanying  the  others,  and  was  only 
induced  to  go  back  by  the  intimation  that  "  dead  men 
tell  no  tales." 

Crossing  the  river  in  the  boats,  they  were  moved  to 
another  place  at  some  distance,  to  preclude  the  possibility 
of  being  tracked  and  followed.  All  now  hid  themselves 
among  the  mountains,  and  the  same  Union  man  was  again 
sent  to  Harrison,  this  time  to  see  how  severely  Johnson 
was  wounded.  He  returned  in  a  day  or  two,  and  reported 
that  he  had  a  severe  sabre-cut  on  the  shoulder,  a  bullet 
through  the  muscle  of  his  right  arm,  and  two  slight 
wounds  in  one  of  his  hands.  Morford  and  his  men  re- 
mained in  the  mountains  until  all  search  for  the  prisoners 
was  over,  then  went  to  the  Cumberland  Mountains,  where 
they  remained  one  day  and  a  portion  of  another,  and 
then  proceeded  in  the  direction  of  McMinnville.  Hiding 
themselves  in  the  woods  near  this  place  during  the  day, 
seeing  but  not  seen,  they  travelled  that  night  to  within 
eleven  miles  of  "Woodbury,  when  they  struck  across  the 
road  from  ^[cMinnville  to  Woodbury.  Near  Logan's 
Plains  they  were  fired  on  by  a  body  of  rebel  cavalry,  but, 
though  some  fort}^  shots  were  fired,  no  one  of  the  ten  was 
harmed,  Morford  having  one  bullet-hole  in  his  coat.  The 
cavalry,  however,  pursued  them  across  the  barrens,  sur- 
rounded them,  and  supposed  themselves  sure  of  their 
game ;  but  Morford  and  his  companions  scattered  and  hid 
away,  not  one  being  captured  or  found.     Night  coming 


LITTLE  EDDIE,  THE  DRUMMER  BOY.  61 

on,  t"he  cavalry  gave  up  the  chase,  and  went  on  to  Wood- 
bury, where  they  threw  out  pickets,  not  doubting  that 
they  would  pick  up  the  objects  of  their  search  during  the 
night.  Morford,  however,  was  informed  of  this  fact  b}'  a 
citizen,  and,  in  consequence,  lay  concealed  all  the  next 
day,  making  his  way  safely  to  Murfreesborough,  with  al! 
of  his  company,  the  day  alter. 


LITTLE  EDDIE,  THE  DEUMMEE  EOY. 

A  few  days  before  our  regiment  received  orders  to 
join  General  Lyon,  on  his  march  to  Wilson's  Creek,  the 
drummer  of  our  company  was  taken  sick,  and  conveyed 
to  the  hospital,  and  on  the  evening  preceding  the  day 
that  we  were  to  march,  a  negro  was  arrested  within  the 
lines  of  the  camp,  and  brought  before  our  captain,  who 
asked  him,  "what  business  he  had  within  the  lines?" 

lie  replied :  "  I  know  a  drummer  that  you  would  like 
to  enlist  in  your  company,  and  I  have  come  to  tell  you 
of  it."  He  was  immediately  requested  to  inform  the 
drummer  that  if  he  would  enlist  for  our  short  term 
of  service  he  would  be  allowed  extra  pay,  and  to  do  this, 
he  must  be  on  the  ground  early  in  the  morning.  The 
negro  was  then  passed  beyond  the  guard. 

On  the  following  morning  there  appeared  before  the 
captain's  quarters  during  the  beating  of  the  reveilk,  a 
good-looking,  middle-aged  women,  dressed  in  deep  mourn- 
ing, leading  by  the  hand  a  sharp,  sprightly-looking  boy, 
apparently  about  twelve  or  thirteen  years  of  age. 

Her  story  was  soon  told.  She  was  from  East  Ten 
nessee,  where  her  husband  had  been  killed  by  the  rebels, 
and  all  their  property  destroyed.  She  had  come  to  St. 
Louis  in  search  of  her  sister,  but  not  finding  her,  and 
being  destitute  of  money,  she  thought  if  she  coutd  pro- 
cure a  situation  for  her  boy  as  a  drummer  for  the  short 
time  that  we  had  to  remain  in  the  service,  she  could  fiud 


56  LITTLE  EDDIE,  THE  DRUMMER  BOY. 

employment  for  herself,  and  perhaps  find  her  sister  "by 
the  time  we  were  discharged. 

During  the  rehearsal  of  her  story  the  little  fellow  kept 
his  eyes  intently  fixed  upon  the  countenance  of  the  cap- 
tain, who  was  about  to  express  a  determination  not  to 
take  so  small  a  boy,  when  he  spoke  out — 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  captain,  I  can  drum." 

Tills  was  spoken  with  so  much  confidence,  that  the 
captain  immediately  observed,  with  a  smile — 

"  Well,  well,  sergeant,  bring  the  drum,  and  order  our 
fifer  to  come  forward."  . 

In  a  few  moments  the  drum  was  produced,  and  our 
fifer,  a  tall,  round-shouldered,  good-natured  fellow,  from 
the  Dubuque  mines,  who  stood,  when  erect,  something 
over  six  feet  in  height,  soon  made  his  appearance. 

Upon  being  introduced  to  his  new  comrade,  he  stooped 
down,  with  his  hands  resting  upon  his  knees,  that  were 
thrown  forward  into  an  acute  angle,  and  after  peering 
into  the  little  fellow's  face  a  moment,  he  observed — • 

"  My  little  man,  can  you  drum  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  replied,  "I  drummed  for  Captain  Hill  in 
Tennessee." 

Our  fifer  immediately  commenced  straightening  him- 
self upward,  until  all  the  angles  in  his  person  had  disap- 
peared, when  he  placed  his  fife  in  his  mouth,  and  played 
the  "  Flowers  of  Edcnborough,"  one  of  the  most  difficult 
things  to  follow  with  the  drum  that  could  have  been  se- 
lected, and  nobly  did  the  little  fellow  follow  him,  showing 
liimself  to  be  a  master  of  the  drum.  When  the  music 
ceased,  our  captain  turned  to  the  mother  and  observed  — 

"  Madam,  I  will  take  your  boy.     What  is  his  name  ?" 

"Edward  Lee,"  she  replied;  then  placing  her  hand 
upon  the  captain's  arm,  she  continued,  "  Captain,  if  he  is 
not  killed — "  here  her  maternal  feelings  overcame  her 
utterances,  and  she  bent  down  over  her  boy  and  kisaed 
him  upon  the  forehead. 


LITTLE  EDDIE,  THE  DRUMMER  BOY.  57 

As  she  arose,  ste  observed :  "  Captain,  you  will  bring 
Inm  back  with  you,  won't  you?" 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  replied,  "  we  will  be  certain  to  bring 
him  back  with  us.  We  shall  be  discharged  in  six 
weeks." 

In  an  hour  after,  our  company  led  the  Iowa  First  out 
of  camp,  our  drum  and  fife  playing  "  The  girl  I  left 
behind  me."  Eddie,  as  we  called  him,  soon  became  a 
great  favorite  with  all  the  men  in  the  company.  When 
any  of  the  boys  had  returned  from  a  horticultural  excur- 
sion, Eddie's  share  of  the  peaches  and  melons  was  the  first 
apportioned  out.  During  our  heavy  and  fatiguing  march 
from  Rolla  to  Springfield,  it  was  often  amusing  to  see 
our  long-legged  fifer  wading  through  the  mud  with  our 
little  drummer  mounted  upon  his  back — and  always  in 
that  position  when  fording  streams. 

During  the  fight  at  Wilson's  Creek,  I  was  stationed 
with  a  part  of  our  company  on  the  right  of  Totten's  bat- 
tery, while  the  balance  of  our  company  with  a  part  of 
the  Illinois  regiment  was  ordered  down  into  a  deep  ra- 
vine upon  our  left,  in  which  it  was  known  a  portion  of 
the  enemy  was  concealed,  with  whom  they  were  soon 
engaged.  The  contest  in  the  ravine  continuing  some 
time,  Totten  suddenly  wheeled  his  battery  upon  the 
enemy  in  that  quarter,  when  they  soon  retreated  to  the 
high  ground  behind  their  lines. 

In  less  than  twenty  minutes  after  Totten  had  driven 
the  enemy  from  the  ravine,  the  word  passed  from  man 
to  man  throughout  the  army,  "  Lyon  is  killed,"  and  soon 
after,  hostilities  having  ceased  upon  both  sides,  the  order 
came  for  our  main  force  to  fall  back  upon  Springfield, 
while  a  part  of  the  Iowa  First  and  two  companies  of  the 
Missouri  regiment  were  to  camp  upon  the  ground,  and 
cover  the  retreat  next  morning. 

That  night  I  was  detailed  for  guard  duty,  my  turn  of 
guard  closing  with  the  morning  call.  When  I  went  out 
with  the  officer  as  a  relief^  1  found  that  my  post  was 


68  LITTLE  EDDIE,  THE  DRUMMER  BOY. 

upon  a  higli  eminence  tLat  overlooked  the  deep  ravine, 
in  which  our  men  had  engaged  the  enemy,  until  Totten's 
battery  came  to  their  assistance.  It  was  a  dreary,  lone- 
some ijeat.  The  moon  had  gone  down  in  the  eaily  part 
of  the  night,  while  the  stars  twinkled  dimly  through  a 
hazy  atmosphere,  lighting  up  imperfectly  the  surround- 
ing objects.  Occasionally  I  would  place  my  ear  near 
the  ground  and  listen  for  the  sound  of  footsteps,  but  all 
was  silent  save  the  far-off  howling  of  the  wolf,  that  seemed 
to  scent  upon  the  evening  air  the  banquet  that  we  had 
been  preparing  for  him. 

The  hours  passed  slowly  away,  when  at  length  the 
morning  light  began  to  streak  along  the  eastern  sky, 
making  surrounding  objects  more  phiinly  visible.  Pre- 
sently I  heard  a  drum  beat  up  the  morning  call.  At 
first  i  thought  it  came  from  the  camp  of  the  enemy  across 
the  creek ;  but  as  I  listened,  I  found  that  it  came  up  from 
the  deep  ravine ;  for  a  few  minutes  it  was  silent,  and 
then  as  it  became  more  light  I  heard  it  again.  I  listened 
— the  sound  of  the  drum  was  familiar  to  me — and  I 
knew  that  it  was — 

Our  drnmmerlioy  from  Tennessee, 
Beating  for  help  the  reveille. 

I  was  about  to  desert  my  post  to  go  to  his  assistance, 
when  I  discovered  the  officer  of  the  guard  approaching 
with  two  men.  We  all  listened  to  the  sound,  and  were 
satisfied  that  it  was  Eddie's  drum.  I  asked  permission 
to  go  to  his  assistance.  The  officer  hesitated,  saying  that 
the  orders  were  to  march  in  twenty  minutes.  I  promised 
to  be  back  in  that  time,  and  he  consented.  I  immediately 
started  down  the  hill  through  the  thick  undergrowth, 
and  upon  reaching  the  valley  I  followed  the  sound  of 
the  drum,  and  soon  found  him  seated  upon  the  ground, 
his  back  leaning  against  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree,  while 
ills  drum  hung  upon  a  bush  in  front  of  him,  reaching 


LITTLE  EDDIE,  THE  DRUMMER  BOY.  59 

nearly  to  the  grounfl.  As  soon  as  Le  discovered  me  he 
dropped  bis  drum-sticks  and  exclaimed — ■ 

"  O  corporal !  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you.  Give  me  a 
drink,"  reaching  out  his  hand  for  my  canteen,  which 
"Was  empty, 

I  immediately  turned  to  bring  him  some  water  from 
the  brook  that  I  could  hear  rippling  through  the  bushes 
near  by,  when  thinking  that  I  was  about  to  leave  him, 
he  commenced  crying,  saying — 

"  Don't  leave  me,  corporal — I  can't  walk." 

I  was  soon  back  with  the  water,  when  I  discovered 
that  both  of  his  feet  had  been  shot  away  by  a  cannon 
ball.  After  satisfying  his  thirst,  he  looked  up  into  my 
face,  and  said — 

"  You  don't  think  I  will  die,  corporal,  do  you  ?  This 
man  said  I  would  not — he  said  the  surgeon  could  cure 
my  feet." 

I  now  discovered  a  man  lying  in  the  grass  near  him. 
By  his  dress  I  recognized  him  as  belonging  to  the  enemy. 
It  appeared  that  he  had  been  shot  through  the  bowels, 
and  had  fallen  near  Avhere  Eddie  lay.  Knowing  that  he 
could  not  live,  and  seeing  the  condition  of  the  boy,  he  had 
crawled  to  him,  taken  off'  his  buckskin  suspenders,  and 
corded  the  little  fellow's  legs  below  the  knee,  and  then 
lay  down  and  died. 

While  he  was  telling  me  these  particulars,  I  heard 
the  tramp  of  cavalry  coming  down  the  ravine,  and  in  a 
moment  a  scout  of  the  enemy  was  upon  us,  and  I  was 
taken  prisoner.  I  requested  the  officer  to  take  Eddie  up 
in  front  of  him,  and  he  did  so,  carrying  him  with  great 
tenderness  and  care.  When  we  reached  the  camp  of  the 
enemy  the  little  fellow  was  dead. 


60  OLD  BEX,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT. 


OLD  BEN,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT. 

How  old  Old  Ben  was  no  one  knew  exactly — not  even 
Old  Ben  himself.  He  had  been  called  Old  Ben  so  far  back 
that  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant  served  not  to 
remember  him  by  any  other  designation.  Ben  said  that 
he  must  have  been  born  old,  for  he  had  dim  recollections 
of  his  mother  calling  him  an  "  old-fashioned  feller"  before 
he  was  big  enough  to  weed  the  garden.  When  he  ar- 
rived at  man^s  estate  the  girls  invariably  called  him 
either  Old  Bachelor  Ben  or  Old  Ben.  So  he  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  one  thing,  and  that  was,  he  never  was 
young  Ben.  He  was  never  known  to  have  been  sick, 
except  it  was  that  he  had  "  the  cussed  shakes  and  fever  a 
spell."  With  that  exception,  he  had  never  invested  much 
in  patent  medicines  or  other  doctor's  stuff,  and  was  con- 
sequently a  vigorous  man,  standing  firm  in  his  boots.  He 
was  tall,  and  had  not  much  flesh  to  spare,  but  he  often 
remarked  that  it  "  tuk  a  lean  boss  for  a  long  race,  and  he 
Was  one  on  'em."  He  knew  the  Mississippi,  Cumberland, 
and  Tennessee  Rivers,  he  said,  better  than  he  did  his 
Testament,  and  had  acquired  considerable  fame  for  his 
skill  at  the  oar  and  the  wheel.  He  was  the  man  to  take 
a  craft  safe  through  a  shute  or  over  dangerous  places, 
and  for  that  duty  was  still  preferred  to  others  many  years 
his  junior.  As  for  old  Tennessee,  he  knew  every  inch 
of  her  "  sile,"  and  on  that  "  p'int"  he  wouldn't  yield  a 
notch  to  any  man,  living  or  dead.  His  courage  was 
known  to  be  of  the  right  stripe,  and  he  was  set  down  as 
a  tough  old  knot  that  would  turn  the  edge  of  many  a 
bright  axe  if  an  attempt  was  made  to  split  him. 

At  the  time  the  hurricane  of  rebellion  swept  over  the 
State,  Old  Ben  was  on  a  visit  to  Knoxville,  where  he  was 
well  known.  The  many  outrages  perpetrated  upon  those 
who  refused  to  succumb  to  the  rebel  sway  so  aroused  his 
ire  that  he  at  length  said  that  he  believed  that  ho  was 


GLD  BEN,  THE  MOrNTAIN  SCOUT.  61 

beginning  to  turn  "Injun,"  and  that  he  couldn't  die  until 
he  liad  had  revenge  upon  the  scaly  varmints,  who,  he  as- 
serted, were  mean  enough  to  cut  their  grandmothers' 
throats  for  the  sake  of  getting  what  the  old  women  had 
in  their  stockings.  One  night  he  had  been  listening  to  a 
chap,  whom  he  knew  as  a  briefless  lawyer  from  Clarksville, 
haranguing  a  crowd  in  a  bar-room,  and  growing  indignant 
at  what  he  considered  the  fellow's  insolence,  he  interrupted 
him  with — 

"See  here,  stranger,  yer  kin  talk  jest  like  clock-work 
about  them  cussed  abolishunists — and  every  one  knows 
that  I  hates  'em  as  I  do  pizen — but  I'll  jest  bet  yer  drinks 
for  the  crowd  that  yer  never  owned  a  niafger  for  'em  to 
steal." 

This  challenge  from  Old  Ben,  which  somewhat  stag- 
gered the  speaker,  was  received  with  much  secret  satis- 
faction by  several  Union  men  of  the  group,  who,  from 
necessity,  were  obliged  to  conceal  their  sentiments,  and 
created  a  general  laugh.  It  was  a  few  minutes  before 
the  lawyer  could  recover  his  self-possession.  He  then 
drew  himself  up  to  assume  as  great  a  degree  of  dignity 
as  possible,  and  fixing  what  he  intended  as  a  withering 
look  on  Old  Ben,  while  a  contemptuous  smile  played 
around  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  he  said — 

"  Old  man,  I  suppose  you  are  some  of  the  Union  rub- 
bish that  has  not  yet  been  swept  out  of  the  State." 

"Thar  3"er  right.  I'm  Union  clear  through  to  the 
marrow,  and  if  I  had  my  way  I'd  hang  up  a  few  such 
chaps  as  you  ar,  who  never  work,  but  ar'  everlastin' 
smellin'  around  for  some  office,  and  who  have  brought  all 
this  trouble  on  the  country.  Yer  ar'  now  goin'  about  de- 
ceivin'  honest  people — tellin'  'em  that  the  whole  North 
ar'  agoin'  to  turn  nigger  stealers,  and  that  the  only  way 
for  southern  men  to  pertect  thar  property  is  for  'em  to 
dissolve  the  Union  and  'stablish  a  one-hoss  consarn.  with 
«5uch  oue-hoss  chaj)s  as  you  at  the  head  of  it.     I'd  hang 


52  OLD  BEN,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT. 

yer  up  without  judge  or  jury.  That  would  be  the  quickest 
way  to  settle  the  mischief  yer  have  made." 

A  loud  braying  from  some  of  the  converts  to  the  new 
doctrines  greeted  the  remarks  of  Old  Ben.  But  nothing 
daunted  thereat,  he  exclaimed — 

"  Yer  may  bray  jest  as  much  as  yer  a  mind  to.  But 
yer  kin  remember  that  jackasses  do  the  same  thing.  And 
any  one  wlio  jines  the  secession  crew  ain't  fit  to  be  named 
the  same  day  with  a  jackass.  Them's  my  sentiments, 
and  I  don't  care  who  knows  'em." 

"Look  out,  Old  Ben  !  You'll  be  talkin'  treason  next, 
and  then  you'll  be  arrested,"  said  one  of  the  crowd  who 
sympathized  with  the  rebels,  yet  was  very  friendly  with 
Old  Ben. 

"Treason!"  ejaculated  the  lawyer.  "He  has  been 
doing  nothing  else  but  talking  treason,  and  should  be  ar- 
rested forthwith." 

"  Oh  no;  Old  Ben  won't  do  any  harm  !"  exclaimed  an- 
other secessionist,  who  did  not  wish  to  see  the  old  man 
molested. 

"  You've  arrested  a  good  many  honest  people  who  never 
harmed  any  one,  and  I  expect  my  turn  will  come  one  of 
these  days,"  replied  Old  Ben. 

"You  may  depend  upon  that!"  exclaimed  the  lawyer. 
"It  won't  be  long  before  you  are  elevated !"  and  here  he 
gave  a  peculiar  jerk  with  the  hand  which  he  held  near 
his  neck.  "  If  jj-ou  don't  mend  your  manners,  you  will 
go  up  soon,  old  man.' 

Old  Ben  was  about  to  reply,  but  was  interrupted  by 
the  entrance  of  a  man,  followed  by  a  number  of  others, 
who  called  the  lawAxr  one  side,  and  then  entered  into  a 
low  but  earnest  conversation  with  liim.  The  new-comer 
was  a  thick -set,  brutaldooking  man,  Avith  a  face  well 
covered  with  heavy  black  hair.  He  was  generally  known 
as  Black  Dave,  and  his  business  had  been  that  of  a  negro- 
trader  ;  but  he  was  now  at  the  head  of  a  band  of  ruffians 
who,  under  his  direction,  had  been  guilty  of  many  acta 


OLD  BEX,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT.  Hi 

of  "barbarism.  The  lawyer  was  a  sort  of  lieutenant  and 
adviser  to  the  band.  Old  Ben  pointed  to  the  spot  where 
they  stood,  and  said — 

•'Some  dirty  business  is  afloat,  I  reckon,  when  two 
such  chaps  get  together.  One  on  'em,  who  never  owned 
a  nigger  or  enough  money  to  pay  his  licker  bill,  talks 
about  the  '  North  stealin'  owr  niggers !'  Them's  his  words. 
The  other  one  has  run  oft'  more  niggers,  and  sold  'em 
down  south,  than  the  abolishunists  have  stolen  these  ten 
years.  If  them  ar'  the  chaps  what  ar'  agoin'  to  be  yer 
leaders,  ye'll  soon  smell  so  bad  that  the  devil  won't  allow 
yer  to  come  within  rifle-shot  of  the  front  door  of  hell. 
He  will  have  yer  all  pitched  down  the  back  way!" 

After  giving  utterance  to  these  sentiments  Old  Ben 
turned  on  his  heel  and  strolled  leisurely  out  of  the  room. 
He  had  not  gone  far  ere  he  was  overtaken  by  one  of  the 
party  from  the  bar-room,  whom  he  knew  as  a  sound  Union 
man,  and  who  said,  in  a  low  tone — 

"  You  will  have  to  be  very  careful  of  yourself  after 
what  you  have  said.  I  overheard  Black  Dave  tell  the 
other  that  your  case  would  be  attended  to  shortly." 

"  They'll  attend  to  me  shortly,  will  they,  eh  ?"  ejacu- 
lated Old  Ben.  "  Then,  I  say,  let  'em  come  on !  I'll 
cling  to  the  Union  as  long  as  thar's  a  splinter  left !  I 
can't  live  much  longer,  any  way,  but  while  I  do  live  I'll 
live  like  a  man  !" 

"  You  are  vveil  acquainted  with  the  mountains,  are  you 
not?" 

"  Reckon  I  am." 

"  You  know  that  a  great  many  Union  men,  who  have 
been  driven  from  their  homes,  have  been  obliged  to  seek 
a  hiding-place  there  until  such  times  as  the  Union  army 
gets  this  way." 

"Yes,  I  know  it;  and  what  is  more,  I'm  agoin'  to 
make  one  on  'em.  I  itch  to  have  a  little  vengeance  on 
them  scaly  varmints.     If  the  Union  men  about  here  had 


64  OLD  BEN,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOL'T. 

more  of  the  Parson's  stuflf  in  'em,  we'd  make  screecliin' 
■work  among  them  turkey-buzzards." 

"But  you  can't  expect  all  men  to  be  Brownlows.  His 
very  boldness  awed  them  for  a  while,  but  you  see  they 
are  getting  over  that  now.  Men  have  to  be  prudent  for 
the  sake  of  their  families.  If  you  will  come  up  to  my 
house  to-morrow  night,  you  will  hear  something  that  will 
do  you  good,  and  how  you  can  be  of  vast  service  to  the 
Union  men  in  this  vicinity.     Will  you  come?" 

"Yes;  nibethar!" 

Old  Ben's  companion  noticing  Black  Dave  and  the 
lawyer  approaching,  walked  quickly  forward.  It  was 
rather  a  secluded  spot  where  they  had  been  standing,  and 
Old  Ben  being  in  the  shade  was  not  observed  by  either 
Black  Dave  or  the  lawyer.  They  halted,  and  Black 
Dave,  with  great  gesticulation,  said — 

"I've  sworn  to  have  vengeance  on  the  old  cuss,  and 
now  is  my  time!  He  didn't  think  that  I  was  good 
enough  fo^r  his  daughter.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  him,  I 
believe  I  could  have  got  the  girl;  but  as  I've  lost  her, 
I'm  bent  upon  having  my  pay." 

"  What  do  you  propose  to  do  ?  Has  he  got  much  that 
we  could  lay  our  hands  upon  ?"  said  the  lawyer. 

"  We'll  go  out  to  his  place  toward  midnight,  and  drag 
the  old  hound  out  of  his  nest.  If  I  once  fairly  get  him 
in  my  power,  I'll  make  him  sing  psalms.  I  will  let  him 
know  if  I  ain't  as  good  as  any  of  his  breed !  He  has  got 
a  couple  of  fine  horses ;  we'll  take  them,  any  how.  But 
come,  let  us  go  back  now  and  have  a  drink  with  the  boys ! 
They'll  miss  us.  You  see  I  don't  want  any  of  'em  to 
know  where  we  are  agoing  to.  It  might  get  talked  about, 
and  some  Hessian  spy  give  him  the  alarm." 

As  they  disappeared  Old  Ben  came  forth  from  a  hiding- 
place  where  he  had  ensconced  himself  for  the  purpose  of 
learning  what  mischief  they  were  planning.  Looking 
after  the  retreating  figures  he  muttered,  half  aloud — 

"  I'll  head  off  them  devils  yet,  or  else  I'll  give  'em  leave 


OLD  BEN,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT.  65 

to  call  me  a  skimk !  The  old  man  whar  right  in  show- 
ing Black  Dave  the  door.  He  should  have  kicked  him 
out.  That's  what  I  would  have  done.  But  I'll  head  oft' 
the  villains !  I'll  head  'era  off!"  he  ejaculated,  as  he 
hastened  forward. 

Black  Dave  and  his  lieutenant  returned  to  the  bar-room, 
vvhere  they  with  their  companions  indulged  in  a  drunken 
revel  Toward  midnight  he  got  together  some  ten  or  a 
dozen  of  those  who  were  the  least  intoxicated,  and  started 
out  on  his  work  of  vengeance. 

This  band  of  "defenders  of  the  rights  of  Southern 
men,"  as  they  styled  themselves,  had  proceeded  a  con- 
siderable distance  from  the  tavern  when  their  commander 
ordered  them  to  halt  in  front  of  a  modest-looking  dwell- 
ing, surrounded  by  pleasant  grounds.  He  then  addressed 
them  as  follows : — 

"  Boys !  now  we  are  about  to  catch  one  of  the  blackest- 
hearted  traitors  in  the  South.  He  is  a  regular  white- 
livered  Lincolnite,  and  it  ain't  to  be  expected  that  we  will 
show  him  much  mercy.     So,  follow  me !" 

Black  Dave  then  opened  the  gate  and  went  toward  the 
house,  followed  by  his  band.  He  gave  several  loud  raps 
on  the  door  with  the  butt  of  a  pistol,  and  it  not  being 
promptly  opened,  he  applied  the  heel  of  his  heavy  boot 
and  administered  a  number  of  lusty  kicks.  The  door 
was  at  length  opened  by  rather  an  elderly  female,  who 
had  a  light  in  her  hand.  As  soon  as  Black  Dave  caught 
a  glimpse  of  her  countenance  he  said,  in  a  gruff  voice — ■ 

"  We  want  your  old  man.  Tell  him  to  turn  out  quick, 
and  not  to  keep  us  a-waiting." 

"  He  is  not  at  home,"  was  the  mild  response. 

"  You  lie !  we  know  better  I  If  you  don't  turn  him 
.rat,  we'll  go  in  and  drag  him  out!" 

"  I  assure  you,  sir,  that  he  is  not  in  the  house." 

"  Come,  boys,  follow  me !  "We  won't  put  up  with  an^ 
of  the  old  woman's  nonsense." 

Black  Dave,  as  he  uttered  these  words,  entered  tha 
5 


66  OLD  BEN,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT. 

house,  accompanied  by  several  of  Lis  followers.  After 
a  lapse  of  a  few  minutes  lie  returned,  with  a  countenance 
blacker  than  usual,  exclaiming — 

"  The  old  hound  has  run  away,  boys ;  but  the  black- 
hearted traitor  don't  escape  my  vengeance  so  easy.  Just 
throw  a  torch  in  the  barn  yonder." 

"  Oh  !  do  not  fire  the  place !  Have  some  mercy  for  the 
familv!"  entreated  the  old  lady. 

"  What  is  the  family  to  me  ?  I  wasn't  good  enough 
to  make  one  of  them !  They  are  a  brood  of  traitors,  the 
whole  of  them,  and  if  you  don't  want  'em  roasted,  you  had 
better  turn  'em  out!" 

After  giving  utterance  to  these  brutal  words  he  strode 
off  toward  the  outbuildings,  seizing  a  torch  from  one  of 
his  followers  as  he  passed  along.  Looking  in  the  stable 
and  finding  that  the  horses  were  gone,  he  gave  utterance 
to  a  vile  oath,  and  then  threw  the  torch  among  some  loose 
hay.  Watching  the  flames  as  they  crept  slowly  along, 
while  a  fiendish  smile  spread  over  his  features,  he  told 
one  of  his  band  to  pick  up  some  of  the  hay  and  follow 
him.  He  then  went  toward  the  dwelling,  and  ordered  the 
man  to  throw  the  hay  on  the  kitchen  floor ;  and  then, 
despite  the  entreaties  of  the  old  lady  and  the  cries  of  two 
or  three  children,  who  had  been  hurried  from  their  beds 
and  stood  in  their  night-clothes  clinging  to  their  mother, 
the  ruffian  applied  the  torch.  When  the  flames  were 
fairly  under  way  he  said — 

"  Come  on,  boys  !  Leave  'em  to  shift  for  themselves. 
Let  us  see  if  we  can't  track  the  old  hound." 

The  ruffian  then,  followed  by  his  band,  retreated  down 
the  road,  turning  occasionally  to  behold  the  flames  as 
they  licked  up  that  once  happy  home. 

The  next  evening. Old  Ben  was  prompt  to  his  appoint- 
ment, and  as  he  listened  to  the  narration  of  the  outrage 
to  a  party  of  Union  men,  he  exclaimed,  as  his  countenance 
glowed  with  excitement — 

"  The  miserable  scaly  buzzards !     I  wouldn't  a  thought 


OLD  BEN,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT.  67 

tliey'd  gone  so  far ;  they're  worse  nor  Injuns  !  I  reckoned 
it  whar  all  ri2;lit  when  I  o;ave  him  the  alarm  and  he  cjoi 
safe  off.  But  to  fire  the  house,  and  turn  the  wimen  folks 
and  children  out  doors  that  time  of  night — I  swar  I'll 
have  vengeance  for  it!  It  mout  not  be  quite  reg'lar,  but 
3-er  kin  jest  sot  Old  Ben  down  for  Black  Dave  and  that 
white-livered  skunk  from  Clarksville.  If  I  don't  fix 
thar  flint  for  'em  then  I  won't  trust  bullet  and  powder 
any  more.  Thar's  no  use  of  yer  savin'  anythin'  agin  it," 
he  said,  as  he  raised  up  his  hand  toward  one  of  the  as- 
sembly, who  he  supposed  was  about  to  remonstrate,  "  for 
I've  fixed  the  hull  matter.  It's  no  knowin'  what  they'll 
do  next,  so  they've  got  to  go.  The  devil  wants  his  due, 
and  it  is  about  time  they  whar  on  the  road  to  see  the 
chief  of  all  secessionists." 

"It  is  what  they  deserve!"  ejaculated  one  of  the  party. 

This  sentiment  was  generally  concurred  in  by  the  as- 
sembly. The  affairs  of  that  part  of  the  State  were  then 
discussed,  and  it  Avas  considered  that  it  would  be  of 
great  importance  if  communication  could  be  kept  up  be- 
tween the  Union  men  in  the  mountains,  and  those  v/ho 
yet  remained  at  home.  For  the  performance  of  this  duty 
they  all  agreed  that  Old  Ben,  from  his  thorough  know- 
ledge of  that  region,  was  peculiarly  qualified.  He  at 
once  consented  to  act,  but  put  in  as  a  proviso,  that  he 
was  not  to  be  deprived  of  the  privilege  of  attending  to 
the  case  of  Black  Dave  and  his  lieutenant. 

In  the  meantime  Black  Dave,  intent  upon  glutting  his 
vengeance,  set  his  spies  to  work  to  discover  the  where- 
abouts of  the  man  whose  homestead  he  had  so  ruthlessly 
destroyed.  A  number  of  days  passed,  and  the  spies  were 
unable  to  give  any  satisfactory  report,  other  than  that 
they  thought  he  had  gone  to  the  mountains.  At  this 
Black  Dave's  rage  grew  furious,  and  he  swore  that  he 
would  seek  revenge  in  another  quarter.  The  fate  he  in- 
tended for  the  father  should  be  visited  upon  the  son-in- 
law,  his  successful  rival,  who  was  settled  in  a  quiet  spot 


gS  OLD  BEN,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT. 

some  miles  from  Knoxville.  Black  Dave  knew  that  his 
rival  was  suspected  of  being  a  Union  man,  and  that  was 
a  sufficient  cloak  for  him  in  his  design  of  villainy. 

It  was  on  a  dark  and  gloomy  night  that  Black  Dave 
got  his  band  of  ruffians  together  and  set  out  on  his  work 
of  vandalism.  We  will  not  detain  the  reader  with  an 
account  of  his  progress  along  the  road.  Arriving  at  the 
house,  his  summons  was  answered  by  a  trembling  black 
servant,  who,  in  answer  to  a  furious  demand  for  his  mas- 
ter, stammered  out  that  he  was  not  at  home.  The  des- 
perado's quick  eye  at  once  detected  from  the  servant's 
manner  that  he  was  endeavoring  to  conceal  something, 
and  he  immediately  ordered  his  lieutenant  to  search  the 
house.  This  duty  the  lieutenant  performed  in  a  style 
worthy  of  his  leader.  The  wife,  notwithstanding  her 
delicate  health,  was  brutally  told  to  point  out  where  her 
husband  was  hid,  as  they  wanted  to  give  him  a  rope  ele- 
vation. All  feelings  of  humanity  were  set  at  naught, 
and  the  search  was  made  in  the  most  brutal  and  reckless 
manner.  But  it  proved  fruitless.  The  intended  victim, 
hearing  the  noise  of  the  band  as  they  approached,  at  once 
suspected  their  object,  and,  at  the  solicitation  of  his  wife, 
consented  to  secrete  himself,  and  succeeded  in  making 
his  escape. 

Black  Dave  fairly  foamed  with  rage  when  he  heard 
that  he  was  again  foiled — that  his  rival  could  not  be 
found. 

"  The  sneaking  cur  is  hid  somewhere  I"  he  exclaimed. 
"But  I'll  smoke  him  and  his  brood  out.  Fire  the  house, 
boys." 

Even  the  entreaties  of  her  whom  he  once  professed  to 
love  failed  to  stay  the  .hand  of  the  incendiary.  Black 
Dave  was  inexorable.  The  torch  was  applied,  and  soon 
the  flames  began  to  creep  along— slowly  at  first,  as  if 
gathering  strength,  and  then  suddenly  they  darted  up 
their  forked  tongues  and  enveloped  the  whole  building 
in  a  fiery  circle.     The  flames,  reflected  by  the  heavy  at- 


OLD  BEN,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT.  69 

mospliere,  shed  a  brilliant  light  over  the  surrounding 
country.  For  a  while  Black  Dave  stood  gazing  upon 
liis  work,  while  a  sort  of  hellish  malignity  spread  itself 
over  his  features,  totally  unmoved  by  the  cries  of  the 
terror-stricken  women  and  children.  He  then  ordered 
the  servant  whom  he  had  first  seen  to  be  tied  to  a  wheel 
of  a  large  wagon,  and  lashed  until  he  revealed  the  where- 
abouts of  his  master.  For  Black  Dave  to  order  was  to 
be  obeyed,  and  the  trembling  black  was  immediately 
seized,  tied,  and  flogged.  The  blows  fell  fast  and  heavy, 
but  the  faithful  black,  notwithstanding  the  blood 
streamed  down  his  back,  refused  to  betray  his  master. 
The  ruffian  Avho  administered  the  blows  paused  for  a 
moment  as  if  to  take  breath,  which  his  leader  observing, 
he  shouted — 

"  Give  the  black  dog  another  dose,  and  lay  them  on 
lively !" 

The  words  had  scarcely  fallen  from  his  lips  ere  a  bullet 
whizzed  past  the  negro  and  buried  itself  in  the  brain  of 
the  ruffian  leader,  and  he  fell  to  the  earth  to  rise  no 
more.  lie  had  given  his  last  order.  His  lieutenant, 
who  stood  near,  sprang  forward,  and  was  in  the  act  of 
stooping  to  lift  the  prostrate  form  of  his  captain  when 
crash  went  another  bullet  through  his  brain,  and  he  fell 
upon  the  body  of  him  who  had  been  his  companion  in 
villainy,  and  who  was  now  his  companion  in  death.  The 
ruffian  who  had  administered  the  blows  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment as  if  transfixed  to  the  spot,  and  then,  throwing 
down  the  whip,  he  attempted  to  run,  but  had  taken  but 
a  few  steps  ere  a  swift- winged  messenger  sent  him  tra- 
velling the  same  road  with  his  leaders.  Consternation 
now  seemed  to  seize  the  remainder  of  the  ruffians,  and 
they  took  to  their  heels,  many  in  their  flight  throwing 
away  their  rifles,  which  were  soon  picked  up  by  Old  Ben 
and  his  companions,  and  their  contents  sent  after  their 
flying  owners. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  pale  and  terror-stricken  wife 


to  OLD  BEN,  THE  MOUNTAIN  SCOUT. 

was  surrounded  by  her  husband  and  father.  After  an 
affectionate  embrace,  the  father,  picking  up  a  lighted 
torch,  approached  the  place  where  the  bodies  la}'. 
Stooping  down  to  examine  the  leaders,  he  in  a  few 
moments  exclaimed — • 

"  Dead  !— both  of  them !  Old  Ben  hit  both  in  nearly 
the  same  spot !" 

So  it  was.  The  father  being  anxious  to  see  his  daughter 
and  her  mother,  who  since  the  destruction  of  the  old 
homestead  had  resided  with  her,  was  accompanied  by  Old 
Ben  and  another  companion  for  that  purpose.  As  they 
approached  the  farm  they  beheld  the  light  from  the 
burning  dwelling,  at  once  rightly  conjectured  the  cause, 
and  who  Avas  at  work.  They  crept  stealthily  along,  and 
secreted  themselves  until  a  favorable  opportunity  should 
afford  them  a  chance  of  being  of  service.  Old  Ben  in- 
sisted that  he  alone  should  do  the  shooting,  and  that  they 
could  do  the  loading,  as  no  shots  were  to  be  wasted.  As 
he  observed  Black  Dave  and  his  lieutenant  standing  near 
together,  he  exclaimed,  in  a  low  tone — 

"  Keerful !  keerful,  now !  They  ar'  both  mine !"  And 
creejnng  to  a  favorable  spot,  he  discharged  the  shots 
which  finished  the  worldly  career  of  the  ruffians. 

•  Black  Dave's  rival,  being  secreted  where  he  could 
view  what  was  going  on,  seeing  the  ruffian  leaders  fall, 
at  once  judged  that  friends  were  at  hand,  and  he  sprang 
forward  to  render  his  aid  in  the  desti-uction  of  the  van- 
dals. When  it  was  ascertained  that  they  were  com- 
pletely routed,  arrangements  were  made  for  conveying 
the  family  to  a  place  of  safety,  and  in  the  arrangements 
the  master  did  not  forget  his  lacerated  but  faithful 
servant. 

During  the  next  fortnight  several  of  Black  Dave's  fol- 
lowers were  found  dead,  and  upon  examination  it  was 
discovered  that  each  one  had  been  shot  in  nearly  the 
same  place  in  the  forehead,  and  it  was  concluded  that 
they  had  all  been  killed  by  the  same  person.     The  con- 


ARMY  WINGS  AS  EXPLAINED  BY  ONE  OF  THE  BOYS.    T I 

elusion  was  correct,  for  Old  Ben,  in  his  scouting  duties, 
sent  many  a  "buzzard,"  as  he  called  those  who  preyed 
upon  the  bones  of  Union  men,  to  his  final  account. 


SUEEOUNDING  HVE  OP  THEM. 

After  the  advance  of  the  Union  army  upon  Bragg  at 
Tullahoma,  and  his  retreat,  the  Pioneer  Brigade  pushed 
on  to  Elk  River  to  repair  a  bridge.  While  one  of  its 
men,  a  private,  was  bathing  in  the  river,  five  of  Bragg's 
soldiers,  guns  in  hand,  came  to  the  bank  and  took  aim  at 
the  swimmer,  one  of  them  shoutina: — 

"Come  in  here,  you Yank,  out  of  the  wet!" 

The  Federal  was  quite  sure  that  he  was  "done  for," 
and  at  once  obeyed  the  order.  After  dressing  himself, 
he  was  thus  accosted: — • 

"  You  surrender,  our  prisoner,  do  you  ?" 

"Yes;  of  course  I  do." 

"  That's  kind.  Now  we'll  surrender  to  you !"  And  the 
five  stacked  arms  before  him,  their  spokesman  adding — ■ 

"  We've  done  with  'em,  and  have  said  to  old  Bragg, 
'good-by !'  Secesh  is  played  out.  Now  you  surround  us 
and  take  us  into  your  camp." 

This  was  done  accordingly,  and  is  but  one  of  hundreds 
of  instances  of  wholesale  desertion  in  July  and  August, 
1863,  in  Lower  Tennessee. 


AEMY  WDIGS  AS  EXPLADTED  BY  ONE  OP  THE  BOTS. 

"You  say  'you  can't  understand  about  army  wings, 
they  being  crushed,  falling  back,  &;c.'  Well,  here  it  is, 
in  short. 

"Suppose  our  army  to  be  like  a  bird  at  Stone  River, 
head  towards  Murl'reesborough,  its  body,  Thomas's  corps, 
being  the  centre,  McCook's  corps  the  right  wing,  spread 


*12  IRISH  WIT  EVER  READY. 

wide  o})en,  and  Crittenden's  corps,  thus  spread,  the  left 
wing.     That  will  do  well  enough  for  illustration, 

"Well,  Bragg's  army  pile  in  on  McCook's  wing  at  its 
tip,  and  break  oft'  an  inch  or  so  by  capturing  batteries 
and  several  hundred  of  our  men.  And  the  feathers  fly 
mightily  all  along  that  wing,  and  it  is  overpowered,  and 
falls  back  in  retreat,  just  as  the  bird  would  fold  its  wing, 
•until  it  laps  right  up  'longside  the  centre.  That's  the 
way  it  was  done. 

"  But  they  didn't  move  our  head  nor  centre,  though — 
nary  I  Well,  the  reb  cavalry,  of  which  they  had  a 
powerful  slue  during  this  fight,  came  round  on  our  rear 
on  the  big  Nashville  road,  where  were  our  hundreds  of 
wagons  and  ambulances.  There,  we  will  say,  is  the  bird's 
tail ;  and  the  supply-wagons,  and  doctors'  tools  and 
niggers,  we'll  call  them  the  tail-feathers.  Now,  them 
feathers  flew  some,  you  better  believe  I" 


IRISH  WIT  EVEE  EEADT. 

The  surrender  of  Lexington,  Mo.,  was  rendered  a  ne- 
cessity by  the  want  of  ammunition,  as  well  as  by  the  want 
of  water.  A  few  of  the  companies  had  one  or  two  rounds 
left,  but  the  majority  had  fired  their  last  bullet.  After 
the  surrender,  an  of^cer  was  detailed  by  Price  to  collect 
the  ammunition  and  place  it  in  safe  charge.  The  officer, 
addressing  Adjutant  Cosgrove,  asked  him  to  have  the 
ammunition  surrendered.  Cosgrove  called  up  a  dozen 
men,  one  after  the  other,  and  exhibiting  the  empty  cart- 
ridge-boxes, said  to  the  astonished  rebel  officer,  "  I  believe, 
sir,  we  gave  you  all  the  ammunition  we  had  before  we 
had  stopped  fighting.  Had  there  been  any  more,  upon 
my  word,  you  should  have  had  it,  sir.  But  I  will  in- 
quire, and  if  by  accident  there  is  a  cartridge  left,  I  will 
let  you  know."     The  rebel  officer  turned  away,  reflecting 


MISS  OLDOM,  THE  KENTUCKY  HEROINE.  *lZ 

npon  tlie  glorious  victory  of  having  captured  men  who 
had  fired  their  last  shot. 

An  Irishman  from  Battle  Creek,  Michigan,  was  at  Bull 
Run  battle,  and  was  somewhat  startled  when  the  head  of 
his  companion  on  the  left  hand  was  knocked  oft'  by  a 
cannon-ball.  A  few  moments  after,  however,  a  spent  ball 
broke  the  fingers  of  liis  comrade  on  the  other  side.  The 
latter  threw  down  his  gun  and  yelled  with  pain,  when 
the  Irishman  rushed  to  him,  exclaiming,  "Blasht  your 
soul,  you  owld  woman,  shtop  cryin' ;  you  make  more 
noise  about  it  than  the  man  that  losht  his  head  1" 


MISS  OLDOM  THE  KENTTTCKT  HEEOINE. 

A  marauding  band  of  rebels  in  Kentucky,  on  their 
way  to  Mount  Sterling,  stopped  at  the  house  of  a  Mr. 
Oldom,  and  he  being  absent  at  the  time,  plundered  hira 
of  all  his  horses,  and  among  them  a  valuable  one  belong- 
ing to  his  daughter  Cornelia.  She  resisted  the  outrage 
as  long  as  she  could,  but  finding  all  her  eftbrts  in  vain, 
she  sprang  upon  another  horse  and  started  post  haste 
toward  the  town  to  give  the  alarm.  Her  first  animal 
gave  out,  when  she  seized  another,  and  meeting  the  mes- 
senger from  Middleton,  she  sent  him  as  fast  as  his  horse 
could  carry  him  to  convey  the  necessary  warning  to 
Mount  Sterling,  where  he  arrived  most  opportunely. 
Miss  Oldom  then  retraced  her  way  toward  home,  taking 
with  her  a  double-barrelled  shot-gun.  She  found  a  pair 
of  saddle-bags  on  the  road,  belonging  to  a  rebel  officer, 
which  contained  a  pair  of  revolvers,  and  soon  she  came  up 
with  the  advancing  marauders,  and  ordered  them  to  halt. 
Perceiving  that  one  of  the  thieves  rode  her  horse,  she 
ordered  him  to  surrender  her  horse  ;  this  he  refused,  and 
finding  that  persuasion  would  not  gain  her  ends,  she 
levelled  the  shot-gun  at  the  rider,  commanded  him,  as 
Damon  did  the  traveller,  "down  from  his  horse."  and 


Y4  PIGHTINQ  ON  HIS  OWN  HOOK. 

threatened  to  fire  if  lie  did  not  comply.  Her  indomitable 
spirit  at  last  prevailed,  and  the  robbers,  seeing  something 
in  her  eye  that  spoke  a  terrible  menace,  surrendered  her 
favorite  steed.  When  she  had  regained  his  back,  and 
patted  him  on  the  neck,  he  gave  a  neigh  of  mingled 
triumph  and  recognition,  and  she  turned  his  head  home- 
ward and  cantered  off"  as  leisurely  as  if  she  were  taking 
her  morning  exercise. 


riGHTDTG  ON  HIS  OWN  HOOK. 

"When  the  martial  and  patriotic  fires  began  to  blaze 
along  the  hill-tops  of  Western  New  York,  and  young 
men  were  rushing  by  tens  of  thousands  to  join  the  na- 
tional standard,  one  brave  fellow  who  seized  the  torch 
with  the  wildest  enthusiasm,  and  worked  hardest  in  the 
cause,  found  it  impossible  to  get  his  name  enrolled  with 
the  company  of  his  own  town — Bloomfield. 

All  his  companions  passed  examination.  When  the 
surgeon  came  to  B.  F.  Surby,  he  found  that  he  had  a 
stiff  knee,  caused  by  the  kick  of  a  horse  while  he  was  a 
boy ;  and  he  was  rejected. 

lie  could  run  as  fast,  mount  a  horse  as  quick,  play  as 
good  a  game  of  ball,  and  shoot  as  well  as  any  one  of  his 
comrades— better,  it  was  acknowledged,  than  most.  He 
was  athletic,  lithe,  hard,  spry,  and  made  for  action  and 
daring.  He  was  twenty-five  years  old,  and  all  ready  to 
fight.  But,  with  all  this,  he  could  not  go ;  he  was,  how- 
ever, determined  to  go,  and  no  surgeon  or  recruiting  of- 
ficer could  stop  him. 

When  the  company  marched  to  Canandaigua,  he  went 
with  them  to  join  the  regiment.  He  put  in  his  pocket 
all  the  money  he  could  scrape  together,  and  paid  his  own 
way  as  long  as  it  lasted ;  and  when  it  gave  out,  partly 
by  the  help  of  his  companions,  and  partly  by  eking  out 
in  mother-wit  what  he  lacked  in  cash,  he  reached  tha 


FIGHTING  ON  KIS  OWN  HOOK.  T5 

head-quarters  of  General  King,  where  Lis  name  not  ap- 
pearing on  the  roll,  he  was  asked  to  give  an  account  of 
himself. 

What  follows  is  in  his  own  words  : — • 

"  Once  beyond  the  Potomac,  I'd  be  blazed  if  I  wouldn't 
have  a  chance.  So  I  tried  the  old  Bloomfield  game 
over;  but  it  was  no  go:  I  could  not  put  on  the  uniform 
of  a  soldier;  I  could  not  have  a  gun  to  kill  rebels.  But 
I  was  bound  to  fetch  it,  some  way  or  other.  I  finally 
got  my  case  before  General  King,  and  he  got  an  officer 
of  his  staft'  to  take  me  as  his  orderly :  so  I  had  my  way 
at  last,  and  once  in  the  army  (if  I  did  get  in  at  the  back 
door)  I  could  go  along,  and  ride  a  good  horse  into  the 
bargain.  That  finished  the  stiff  knee  business,  which 
had  bothered  the  Bloomfield  surgeon.  So  I  thanked  the 
stars  for  my  good  luck,  and  waited  for  the  first  battle. 

"  This  was  in  a  reconnoissance  in  force  towards  Orange 
Court-Iiouse,  where  we  had  some  nice  amusement— just 
enough  to  stir  up  the  blood  of  green  Western  New  York 
boys. 

^'But  nothing  very  serious  happened  till  the  battle  of 
South  Mountain,  which  began  to  look  like  war  as  I  had 
read  of  it  in  the  histories  of  great  generals.  Of  course 
you  know  all  about  that  battle. 

"  But  then  came  some  bad  luck.  I'd  been  thinking  all 
the  time  that  it  was  too  good  to  last.  The  ofiicer  I  was 
serving  got  sick  after  the  battle  of  Cedar  ]\[ountain,  and 
had  to  come  on  to  Washington.  Of  course  I  had  to  come 
too ;  and  here  I  remained  waiting  on  him  several  weeks. 
In  the  meantime  I  lost  all  chance  to  be  in  the  battles  of 
Gainesville  and  Bull  Eun. 

"When  my  commander  got  better,  but  not  well 
enough  to  take  the  field,  he  sent  me  over  to  look  after 
his  horses,  and,  knowing  my  anxiety  to  be  with  the  bri- 
gade, he  gave  me  permission  to  join  it,  and  the  use  of 
his  horse. 

"  I  lost  no  time  in  doing  that.     I  got  in  the  staff  again, 


76  FIGHTING  OX  HIS  OWN  HOOK, 

and  began  to  feel  at  home.  General  King  had  flillen  sick, 
and  was  succeeded  by  General  Hatch.  We  were  ia 
the  splendid  battle  of  South  Mountain,  where  I  had  one 
of  the  great  days,  worth  more  than  all  my  life  before.  Oh, 
how  glorious  the  old  flag  looked  every  time  the  smoke 
rolled  off,  and  we  saw  her  still  streaming ! 

"  In  the  heat  of  this  bloody  engagement,  when  our  men 
were  fighting  jicst  rigid,  the  general  was  wounded,  and, 
being  near  him  at  the  moment,  I  had  the  sad  satisfaction 
of  helping  to  carry  him  from  the  field." 

"  But,"  I  inquired,  "  as  you  seem  to  have  been  where 
the  shot  flew  thick,  had  you  not  met  with  any  mishap  so 
far?" 

"  Nary  a  scratch — nor  the  captain's  horse." 

"  Well,  what  came  next  ?" 

"The  grand  and  blood-red  field  of  Antietam,  all  of 
which  I  saw ;  and  I  never  expect  to  see  a  better  one — 
nor  do  I  want  to.     That  was  no  boys'  play." 

At  this  point  the  surgeon  of  the  hospital,  where  the 
narrator  lay,  came  up  to  see  how  his  patient  was  getting 
along.  After  examining  his  leg,  he  pronounced  it  doing 
well  enough.  "  That  will  give  you  no  more  trouble. 
But  I  am  inclined  to  think  I  shall  have  to  take  this  arm 
off." 

"You  are  welcome  to  it,  doctor.  I  think  it  has  done 
me  about  all  the  good  it  ever  will." 

"  Well,  now  for  Antietam,"  I  said,  as  I  once  more  took 
a  chair  by  his  side. 

"  General  Doubleday  took  command  of  us  there,  in 
place  of  the  wounded  General  Hatch.  In  forming  his 
division  the  night  before  the  battle,  while  the  general  and 
his  staff' were  riding  along  through  the  lines,  a  rebel  bat- 
tery opened  on  us  with  shot  and  shell.  A  soldier  was 
standing  about  two  rods  in  front  of  me.  A  small  shell 
took  his  head  clean  off'  and  struck  my  horse  in  the  side, 
just  behind  my  leg,  cutting  the  girths,  and  exploding  inside 
the  horse.     I  only  remember  the  fire  flew  pretty  thick. 


FIGHTING  ON  HIS  OWN  HOOK.  TT 

and  after  in  some  way  getting  up  into  tbe  air  higher  than 
I  was  before,  I  next  found  myself  on  the  ground  among 
some  of  the  pieces  of  the  horse, 

"  The  first  thought  was,  '  There  goes  the  captain's  horse, 
and  I'm  left  to  foot  it  I'  A  somewhat  sudden  falling  back 
took  place,  and  I  started.  '  But,  by  Jove,  I  won't  lose 
that  saddle !'  and  back  I  put  to  get  it.  While  I  was 
working  away  as  fast  as  I  f^'^nld,  the  general  rode  by,  and 
seeing  what  I  was  doing,  sung  out — 

" '  Quit  that,  fool,  if  you  care  anything  about  your  life  1' 
and  as  I  found  it  rather  difficult  to  untangle  the  saddle, 
I  concluded  to  leave  with  what  traps  I  had,  and  return 
after  dark.     I  did ;  but  it  was  too  late. 

"  I  felt  bad.  '  What  will  the  captain  say  ?  I've  lost 
his  horse  and  saddle,  and  God  knows  what.  Well,  I'll 
see  what  I  can  do ;  I  haven't  lost  my  small  arms,  at  any 
rate;  and  perhaps  I  can  manage  to  get  another  horse 
before  the  battle  opens  in  the  morning.' " 
"Not  hurt  yourself?" 

"Nary  a  bruise.  But  I  was  pretty  well  spattered  up 
with  blood,  I  remember.  So  that  night,  after  looking 
round,  and  not  getting  my  eye  on  a  horse,  I  lay  down 
under  a  fence  near  our  right  wing,  and  thought  I  would 
take  a  nap.  But  I  cared  more  for  a  good  horse  than  a 
good  sleep.  As  luck  would  have  it,  I  heard,  pretty  soon, 
some  horses  coming  down  pretty  fast.  They  had  evi- 
dently broken  loose.  I  sprung  for  the  first  one,  and 
missed  him.  The  next  was  a  few  rods  behind.  '  Now,' 
says  I  to  myself,  '  is  your  last  chance ;'  and  it  was,  for 
there  were  only  two.  I  struck  for  him,  and  caught  him 
by  the  bridle-rein.  It  was  light  enough  to  see,  and  I 
soon  found  out  I  had  got  a  good  horse  for  the  captain.  I 
brought  him  up  to  the  fence  and  lay  down,  being  pretty 
well  satisfied  that  what  further  running  that  animal  did 
that  night  he  would  have  to  do  with  me  on  his  back." 
"  Wiiom  did  the  horse  belong  to?" 
"  He  belonged  to  me." 


T8  FIGHTING  ON  HIS  OWN  HOOK. 

"  Where  did  he  come  from  ?" 

"  Upon  my  soul,  I  forgot  to  inquire." 

"  The  next  morning  all  was  astir,  for  a  battle  Avhich  had 
yet  no  name.  But  everybody  was  well  enough  satisfied 
that  a  great  fight  was  coming.  It  was  plain  as  sunrise 
that  there  was  to  be  a  fight,  and  that  every  man  in  the 
great  Army  of  the  Potomac  knew  it,  and  was  ready  to  do 
his  duty. 

"  There  was  a  different  feeling  among  the  men  and 
officers  the  night  before,  and  that  morning,  from  what  I 
had  seen  before  any  other  battle.  Each  man  knew  that 
defeat  that  day  involved  the  fall  of  Washington. 

''  So  passed  that  wonderful  day.  When  I  hitched  up  at 
night,  and  got  my  blanket  off  the  saddle-bow  and  un- 
rolled it  to  go  to  sleep,  I  found  two  Minie  balls  snugly 
imbedded  near  the  centre  of  the  hard  roll — '  Thank  you, 
gentlemen ;  you  fired  a  shade  too  low.'  So  I  came  oft" 
safe  enough  there,  and,  when  I  did  think  of  it,  I  made  up 
my  min'd  I  was  not  born  to  be  shot.'' 

"Your  new  horse  behaved  well?" 

"Finely,  and  I  got  very  much  attached  to  him.  Bat, 
poor  fellow !  I  had  to  kill  him  to  save  myself.  I  was 
fond  of  riding  about  inside  our  lines,  and  sometimes  be- 
yond them.  I  knew  it  was  rather  a  risky  business;  but 
I  did  it,  part  of  the  time  as  a  volunteer  scout,  and  at 
other  times  on  my  own  hook,  and  was  not  very  sorry  for 
it,  for  I  now  and  then  got  infoi-mation  which  may  have 
been  worth  something. 

"I  generally  managed  to  get  along  without  any  parti- 
cular trouble,  and  with  many  a  good  run  managed  to  get 
home  safe.     But  one  night  I  got  into  a  scrape. 

"I  knew  that  two  or  three  mounted  men  were  near  the 
enem\^'s  picket-lines,  and,  thinking  it  might  pay,  I  started 
about  midnight,  and  rode  in  a  circuitous  way  to  get  near 
enough  to  reconnoitre  from  a  quarter  where  I  should  not 
be  suspected.  I  saw  a  very  fine  horse  tied  up  to  a  tree, 
and  I  wanted  that  horse.     I  came  very  near  succeeding. 


FIGHTING  ON  HIS  OWN  HOOK.  Y9 

But  I  -was  suddenly  notified  by  a  ball  whistling  by  my 
head  that  I  was  discovered.  I  put  out,  and,  finding  my 
horse,  put  spurs  to  him.  Whistle,  Avhizz,  whizz,  whistle, 
the  balls  flew  by.  It  was  a  close  pursuit,  and  a  hard,  long 
run.  I  passed  our  lines  safe.  But  it  was  too  much.  My 
horse  never  was  worth  much  after  that.  I  felt  bad  about 
ir,  for  tlie  poor  fellow  had  saved  my  life  more  than  once. 
But  I  had  taken  good  care  of  him,  and,  after  all,  what  did 
it  matter  ?     It  was  all  in  the  cruise. 

"Finally,  the  enemy  was  before  Fredericksburg. 
During  a  part  of  that  fight  we  were  troubled  by  the 
enemy's  sharp-shooters.  They  were  picking  off  our  offi- 
cers and  best  artillerists  from  a  very  long  range.  I  saw 
how  the  thing  was  working,  and  I  managed  to  get  into 
an  old  deserted  house  (in  which  Washington  is  said  to 
have  spent  some  time  when  young)  which  could  stand  a 
pretty  heavy  shot. 

"I  had  a  splendid  rifle,  and  plenty  of  ammunition.  It 
was  a  fine  cover,  and  I  used  it  to  some  advantage.  A  large 
open  window  looked  out  just  in  the  direction  I  wanted, 
and  as  fast  as  I  loaded,  I  slyly  took  a  look  out,  picked 
my  man,  and  blazed  away.  I  did  not  stay  at'the  window 
any  unnecessary  length  of  time,  for  generally  a  bullet 
came  whistling  through  the  hole  a  second  or  two  after 
my  flash. 

"Heavier  shot  at  last  began  to  strike;  and  then, 
after  I  had  fired,  I  slid  round  behind  a  solid  stone  chim- 
ney standing  near  the  centre  of  the  house.  I  kept  this 
up  for  a  considerable  time,  till  an  accident  happened. 

"As  I  was  approaching  the  window  for  another  fire,  a 
shell  came  through  the  side  of  the  house,  and  burst  about 
three  feet  over  my  head.  Down  I  went,  of  course,  and 
began  to  survey  the  damage.  One  piece  had  struck  my 
loft  arm,  making  a  compound  fracture  below  the  elbov/; 
another  piece  had  struck  my  left  leg,  just  above  the 
knee. 

"  I  thought  now,  as  I  had  done  a  pretty  good  day's 


80  FIGHTING  ON  HIS  OWN  HOOK. 

work,  I  would  contrive  in  some  way  to  haul  off  for  re- 
pairs, and  get  among  my  friends.  Some  of  the  men  at 
a  battery  not  far  oft'  had  heard  the  shell  explode  in  the 
house  where  they  knew  I  was  firing,  and  discovering  me, 
carried  me  oft'  to  the  hospital  quarters,  where  after  a  while 
my  arm  was  tinkered  up  in  a  hurry,  my  leg  was  dressed, 
and  I  lay  down  and  ate  my  supper,  for  I  was  as  hungry 
as  a  wolf. 

" '  Well,  old  boy,'  said  I  to  myself,  '  you  have  had  your 
way :  you  determined  to  come  to  the  war,  and  you  did. 
Now  look  at  yourself,  and  see  how  you  like  it.' 

"  I  did  look  at  myself  I  didn't  look  very  handsome, 
it's  true ;  but  I  looked  well  enough  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses— and  Ifelt  still  better. 

"Being  of  no  particular  use  down  at  Falmouth,  they 
sent  me  up  here,  where  I  arrived  the  other  day.  The 
doctor  down  at  Fredericksburg  botched  my  fractures, 
and  between  jolting  about  and  one  thing  and  another,  I 
must  have  the  arm  taken  off"  now ;  but,  as  my.leg  is  nearly 
well,  I  shall  be  about  again,  almost  as  good  as  new,  in  a 
few  days." 

The  next  morning,  after  inhaling  ether,  he  was  taken 
into  the  amputating  room,  where  his  arm  v/as  taken  off 
three  or  four  inches  below  the  elbow,  and  dressed,  when 
Surby  was  returned  to  his  cot.  The  attendants  said  he 
was  not  out  of  bed  over  five  minutes. 

Of  course  he  got  on  finely,  and  in  a  few  days  he  was 
walking  around  town  to  return  the  calls  of  friends  who 
had  visited  him  in  the  hospital. 

But  what  was  he  to  do  now  ?  His  name  did  not  appea'r 
on  the  rolls  of  the  army ;  he  had  never  been  mustereu 
into  the  service ;  in  fact,  the  Government  knew  no  such 
man  as  a  soldier.  Generals  King,  Hatch,  and  Doubleday, 
and  a  large  number  of  officers  besides,  knew  him,  but 
only  as  a  volunteer  independent  scout.  They  knew  the 
deeds  of  valor,  and  the  difficult  and  important  services 


dahlgren's  famous  dash.  81 

he  had  performed — services  which  if  rendered  by  a  private 
regularly  mustered  into  the  armj?-  would  have  early  givea 
him  a  commission.  Now  he  was  to  leave  the  hospital, 
with  one  arm  the  less,  no  money  in  his  pocket,  and  only 
the  shoddiest  stjde  of  clothes  on  his  back,  to  get  to  his 
home  the  best  way  he  could. 

He  was  certainly  in  a  most  anomalous  position.  But  he 
had  friends  enough — more  than  he  needed ;  for  he  could 
make  his  own  way. 

Some  of  his  former  commanders  caused  the  facts  to  be 
made  known  to  the  War  Department ;  and  everything 
that  was  right  and  proper  was  done,  and  with  promptness, 
fairness,  and  despatch.  Surby  was  at  once  mastered  into 
his  regiment,  to  take  effect  from  the  day  his  company 
marched  out  of  their  native  Bloomfield.  This  gave  him 
pay  for  the  whole  time,  allowance  for  clothing  he  had 
never  drawn,  one  hundred  dollars  bounty  money,  a  new 
patent  arm  that  looks  just  like  its  mate,  an  honorable 
discharge  from  the  Army  of  the  United  States,  and  an 
annual  pension  of  ninety-six  dollars  for  life. 


DAHLGEEN'S  PAMOUS  DASH. 

Gen.  Burnside  requested  Gen.  Sigel  to  make  a  cavalry 
reconnoissauce  of  Fredericksburg.  General  Sigel  se- 
lected his  body-guard,  commanded  by  Captain  Dahlgren, 
with  sixty  men  of  the  First  Indiana  cavalry  and  a  portion 
of  the  Sixth  Ohio.  It  was  no  light  task  to  ride  forty 
miles,  keep  the  movement  concealed  from  the  enemy, 
cross  the  river  and  dash  through  the  town,  especially  as 
it  was  known  the  rebels  occupied  it  in  force ;  it  was  an 
enterprise  calculated  to  dampen  the  ardor  of  most  men, 
but  which  was  hailed  almost  as  a  holiday  excursion  by 
the  Indianians.  They  left  Gainesville  in  the  morning,  took 
a  circuitous  route,  rode  till  night,  rested  awhile,  and  then, 
6 


82  dahlgren's  famous  dash. 

xmder  tlie  light  of  the  full  moon,  rode  rapidly  over  th^ 
worn-out  fields  of  the  Old  Dominion,  through  bj-roads, 
intending  to  dash  into  the  town  at  day-break.  They 
arrived  opposite  the  place  at  dawn,  and  found  to  their 
chagrin  that  one  element  in  their  calculation  had  been 
omitted — the  tide.  The  bridge  had  been  burned  when 
we  evacuated  the  place  last  summer,  and  they  had  nothing 
to  do  but  Avait  till  the  water  el)bed.  Concealing  them- 
selves in  the  woods  they  waited  impatiently.  Meanwhile 
two  of  the  Indianians  rode  along  the  river-bank  below 
the  toAvn  to  the  ferry.  They  hailed  the  ferryman  who 
was  on  the  opposite  shore,  representing  themselves  to  be 
rebel  officers.  The  ferryman  ])ulled  to  the  northern  bank 
and  Avas  detained  till  he  gave  information  of  the  rebel 
force,  which  he  said  numbered  eight  companies — five  or 
six  hundred  men  all  told. 

The  tide  ebbed  and  Captain  Dahlgren  left  his  hiding- 
place  with  the  Indianians — sixty — leaving  the  Ohioans 
on  the  northern  shore.  They  crossed  the  river  in  single 
file  at  a  slow  walk,  the  bottom  being  exceedingly  rocky. 
Reaching  the  op;posite  shore,  he  started  at  a  slow  trot 
toward  the  town,  ho|:)ing  to  take  tlie  enemy  by  surprise. 
But  his  advance  had  been  discovered.  The  enemy  was 
partly  in  saddle.  There  was  a  hurrying  to  and  fro — 
mounting  of  steeds — confusion  and  fright  among  the 
people.  The  rebel  cavalry  were  in  every  street.  Cap- 
tain Dahlgren  resolved  to  fall  upon  them  like  a  thunder- 
bolt. Increasing  his  trot  to  a  gallop,  the  sixty  dauntless 
men  dashed  into  town,  cheering,  with  sabres  glittering  in 
the  sun — riding  recklessly  upon  the  enemy,  who  waited 
but  a  moment  in  the  main  street,  then  ignominiously  fied. 
Having  cleared  the  main  thoroughfare.  Captain  Dahl- 
gren swept  through  a  cross-street  upon  another  squadron 
Avith  the  same  success.  There  was  a  trampling  of  hoofs, 
a  clattering  of  scabbards,  and  the  sharp  ringing  cut  of 
the  sabres,  the  pistol-flash — the  going  down  of  horsemen 


A  FIGHTING  PARSON.  83 

and  rider — tlie  gory  gashes  of  the  sabrc-stroke— a  cheer- 
ing and  hurrahing,  and  screaming  of  frightened  women 
and  children — a  short,  sharp,  decisive  contest,  and  the 
town  was  in  tlie  possession  of  the  gaUant  men.  Once  the 
rebels  attempted  to  recover  what  they  had  lost,  but  a 
second  impetuous  charge  drove  them  back  again,  and 
Captain  Dahlgren  gathered  the  fruits  of  the  victory, 
thirty-one  prisoners,  horses,  accoutrements,  sabres — held 
possession  of  the  town  for  three  hours,  and  retired,  losing 
but  one  of  his  glorious  band  killed  and  two  wounded, 
leaving  a  dozen  of  the  enemy  killed  and  wounded.  The 
one  brave  fellow  who  lost  his  life  had  fought  tlirough  all 
the  conflict,  but  seeing  a  large  i-ebel  flag  waving  from  a 
building,  he  secured  it,  wrapped  it  around  his  body,  and 
was  returning  to  his  command,  when  a  fiital  shot  was 
fired  from  a  window,  probably  by  a  citizen.  He  was 
brought  to  the  northern  shore  and  there  buried  by  his 
fellow- soldiers  beneath  the  forest  pines.  Captain  Carr, 
of  company  B,  encountered  a  rebel  officer  and  ran  his 
sabre  through  the  body  of  his  enemy.  Orderly  Fitter 
had  a  hand-to-hand  struggle  with  a  rebel  soldier,  and,  by 
a  dexterous  blow,  struck  him  from  his  horse,  inflicting 
a  severe  wound  upon  the  head.  He  seized  the  fellow's 
liorse — a  splendid  animal — his  carbine  and  sabre. 

It  thrills  one  to  picture  the  encounter — the  wild  dash, 
the  sweep  like  a  whirlwind — the  cheers — the  rout  of  the 
enemy,  their  confusion — tlie  victory  1  This  will  go  down 
to  history  as  one  of  the  bravest  achievements  on  record. 


A  riGHTING  PAESON. 

Colonel  Granville  Moody,  of  the  Seventy-fourth  Ohio, 
is  a  famous  Methodist  preacher  from  Cincinnati.  He  is 
something  over  fifty,  six  feet  and  two  or  three  inches,  of 
imposing  presence,  with  a  fine,  genial  face,  and  prodigious 
vocal  range.     The  reverend  colonel,  who  proved  himself 


84  A  FIGHTING  PARSON. 

a  fighting  parson  of  the  first  water,  was  hit  four  times  at 
the  battle  of  Murfreesborougli,  and  will  carry  the  marks 
of  battle  when  he  goes  back  to  the  altar.  His  benevo- 
lence justifies  his  military  flock  in  the  indulgence  of  sly 
humor  at  his  expense;  but  he  never  permits  them  to 
disturb  his  equanimity.  Several  battle-anecdotes  of  him 
are  well  authenticated.  Not  long  ago,  General  Negley 
merrily  accused  him  of  using  heterodox  expletives  in  the 
ardor  of  conflict. 

"  Is  it  a  fact,  colonel,"  inquired  the  general,  "  that  you 
told  the  boys  to  'give  'era  hell?' " 

"How?"  replied  the  colonel,  reproachfully;  "that's 
some  more  of  the  boys'  mischief  I  told  them  to  give 
the  rebels  '  Hail  Columbia ;'  and  they  have  perverted  my 
language." 

The  parson,  however,  had  a  sly  twinkle  in  the  corner 
of  his  eye,  which  left  his  hearers  in  considerable  doubt. 

Our  Western  circuit-preachers  are  known  as  stentors. 
Where  others  are  emphatic,  they  roar  in  the  fervor  of  ex- 
hortation, especially  when  they  come  in  with  their  huge 
"  Amen,"  This  fact  must  be  borne  in  mind  to  appreciate 
the  story.  The  colonel's  mind  v/as  saturated  with  piety 
and  fight.  He  had  already  had  one  bout  with  the  rebels, 
and  given  them  "Hail  Columbia."  They  were  renewing 
the  attack.     The  colonel  braced  himself  for  the  shock. 

Seeing  his  line  in  fine  order,  he  thought  he  would  ex- 
hort them  briefly.  The  rebels  were  coming  swiftly. 
Glancing  first  at  the  foe,  then  at  the  lads,  he  said,  quietly, 
"Now,  my  boys,  fight  for  your  country  and  your  God," 
and,  raising  his  voice  to  thunder-tones,  he  exclaimed,  in 
the  same  breath,  "  Aim  low  !" 

Says  one  of  the  gallant  fellows,  "I  thought  for  an  in- 
Btant  it  was  a  frenzied  ejaculation  from  the  profoundest 
depths  of  the  '  Amen  corner,'  "  Any  day  now  you  may 
hear  the  lads  of  the  Seventy-fourth  roaring,  "  Fight  for 
your  country  and  your  God — aim  low  I" 


TOO  MUCH  FOR  HER.  85 


TAKING  IT  COOLLY. 

An  instance  of  endurance  and  patience  occurred  at  the 
hospital  on  the  right  wing,  during  the  fighting  at  Fort 
Donelson,  Tenn.  The  Union  columns  having  been  forced 
back,  the  hospital,  which  was  a  little  up  from  the  road, 
had  come  within  range  of  the  rebels'  fire,  and  was  fast 
becoming  an  unpleasant  position,  but  no  damage  was 
done  to  it.  Just  about  th's  time  a  poor  fellow  came 
sauntering  leisurely  along,  with  the  lower  part  of  his  arm 
dangling  from  the  part  above  the  elbow,  it  having  been 
struck  with  a  grape-shot.  Meeting  the  surgeon  in  the 
house,  who  was  busily  attending  to  other  wounded,  he 
inquired  how  long  it  would  be  before  he  could  attend  to 
him,  and  was  told  in  a  few  minutes.  "All  right,"  said 
the  wounded  man,  and  then  walked  outside  and  watched 
the  progress  of  the  battle  for  a  short  time,  and  then  re- 
turned and  waited  the  surgeon's  opportunity  to  attend  to 
him.  The  arm  was  amputated  without  a  murmur  from 
the  unfortunate  man.  After  the  stump  was  bound  np, 
the  young  man  put  his  good  hand  into  his  pocket,  and 
took  out  a  piece  of  tobacco,  from  which  he  took  a  chew, 
then  walking  over  to  the  fire,  he  leaned  his  well  arm  against 
the  mantle-piece,  and  rested  his  head  against  his  arm, 
and  kept  squirting  tobacco-juice  into  the  fire,  whilst  his 
eyes  were  cast  into  the  flames,  all  with  the  most  astonish- 
ing composure,  as  though  he  was  indulging  in  some 
pleasant  reverie.  He  remained  in  this  position  for  some 
time,  and  then  walked  oft"  and  went  out  of  sight  near 
where  the  fighting  was  going  on. 


TOO  MUCH  rOE  HEE. 

A  forage-train  went  out  of  Nashville,  Tenn.,  upon  one 
occasion,  and   two  or  three   of  the   Michigan   soldiers 


86  A  NAMELESS  SPY. 

guarding  it  called  at  a  house  for  dinner.  The  woman, 
ready  to  take  their  money  and  get  their  favor,  at  once 
prepared  it.  While  they  were  eating,  she  thought  it  a 
favorable  moment  for  conversation,  and  propounded  the 
usual  question  of  Secessia : — 

"  What  in  the  Avorld  did  all  you  people  come  down 
here  to  fight  us  for  ?" 

"The  fact  is,  madam,"  quickly  answered  one  of  her 
guests,  dropping  his  knife  and  fork,  leaning  back  in  his 
chair  and  looking  her  calmly  in  the  face,  "  Ave  understood 
your  folks  were  going  to  free  all  your  negroes  and  send 
them  up  North,  and  we  don't  want  them  and  won't  have 
them.     So  we've  come  down  here  to  put  a  stop  to  it." 

The  old  lady  was  silenced  by  this  spiking  of  her  guns. 


A  NAMELESS  SPY. 

In  1862  there  lived  in  the  State  of a  Union  man, 

with  wife  and  children.  He  was  a  friend  of  the  Union, 
and  an  anti-slavery  man  upon  principle.  After  the  re- 
bellion broke  out,  and  when  the  "  Southern  heart"  had 
become  fired,  this  man,  living  in  a  strong  pro-slavery  re- 
gion, and  surrounded  by  opulent  slaveholders,  his  own 
family  connections,  and  those  of  his  wife  being  also  wealthy 
and  bitter  secessionists,  very  prudently  held  his  peace, 
feeling  his  utter  inability  to  stem  the  tide  of  the  rebellion 
in  his  section.  This  reticence,  together  with  his  known 
Southern  birth  and  relations,  enabled  him  to  pass  unsus- 
pected, and  almost  unobserved,  at  a  time  when  Breckeu- 
ridge,  Marshall,  Preston,  and  Buckner,  and  other  ardent 
politicians  of  Kentucky,  chose  the  rebellion  as  their  por- 
tion, and  endeavored  to  carry  with  them  the  State  amidst 
a  blaze  of  excitement.  Thus,  without  tacit  admissions  or 
any  direct  action  upon  his  part,  the  gentleman  of  whom 
we  write  was  classed  by  the  people  of  his  section  as  a 
secessionist. 


A  NAMELESS  SPY.  «7 

Circumstances  occurred  during  that  year  by  which  this 
person  was  brought  into  contact  with  a  Federal  com- 
mander in  Kentucky,  General  Nelson.  Their  meeting  and 
acquaintance  was  accidental.  Mutual  Union  sentiments 
begat  personal  sympathy  and  friendship.  Nelson  wished 
a  certain  service  performed  in  the  rebel  territory,  and  he 
persuaded  the  citizen  to  undertake  it — which  the  latter 
finally  did  as  a  matter  of  duty,  we  are  assured,  rather 
than  of  gain,  for  he  made  no  charge  for  the  service  after 
its  speedy  and  successful  performance.  Soon  after,  a  sim- 
ilar work  was  necessary ;  and  again  was  the  citizen  im- 
portuned, and  he  again  consented,  but  not  considering 
himself  as  a  professional  spy. 

During  this  or  a  simih^r  trip,  and  while  at  Chatta- 
nooga, our  man  heard  of  the  sudden  death  of  General 
Nelson.  He  was  now  at  a  loss  what  to  do.  Finally  he 
determined  to  return  and  report  his  business  to  Major 
General  Rosecrans,  who  had  assumed  command  of  the 
Federal  army.  Thus  resolved,  he  proceeded  to  finish  his 
mission.  After  ascertaining  the  position  of  military  afiairs 
at  Chattanooga,  he  can\e  to  Murfreesborough,  where 
Bragg's  army  was  then  collecting.  Staying  here  several 
days,  he  was  urged  by  his  Southern  army  friends  to  act  as 
their  spy  in  Kentucky.  The  better  to  conceal  his  own  feel- 
ings and  position,  he  consented  to  do  so,  and  he  left  General 
Bragg's  head-quarters  to  go  to  that  State  by  way  of  Nash- 
ville, feigning  important  business,  and  from  thence  to  go 
to  his  home,  passing  by  and  througli  Rosecran's  army  as 
it  lay  stretched  out  between  Nashville  and  Louisville. 

The  nameless  man  now  makes  his  way  to  the  Federal 
head-quarters,  seeks  a  private  interview  with  General 
Rosecrans,  and  states  his  case  fully  as  we  have  just  related. 
Here  was  something  remarkable,  surely — a  spy  in  the  con- 
fidence of  the  commanders  of  two  great  opposing  armies! 
Our  general  took  much  pains  to  satisfy  himself  of  the 
honesty  and  soundness  of  the  stranger.  He  was  pleased 
with  the  man's  candid  manner,  and  his  story  bore  an  air 


88  A  NAMELESS  SPY. 

of  consistency  and  truth.  Yet  be  was  a  Southerner, 
surrounded  by  rebellious  influences,  and  enjoyed  Bragg'g 
confidence  ;  and  Avhnt  guarantee  could  be  given  that  he 
was  a  Union  man  at  heart?  None;  and  our  general,  in 
great  perplexity,  held  council  with  his  Chief  of  Police, 
and  requested  the  latter  to  "  dig  up"  the  case  to  its  very 
root.  This  was  done,  but  iti  what  manner  we  need  not 
specially  state.  Satisfied  that  it  wonld  do  to  trust  the 
spy,  to  a  certain  extent  at  least,  he  was  now  sent  on  his 
way  to  perform  his  mission  for  Bragg.  At  all  events, 
that  scheming  general  so  supposed,  when  our  man's  re- 
port Avas  made  at  the  rebel  head-quarters  a  few  days 
afterwards.  His  information  was  very  acceptable  to 
Bragg;  but  we  strongly  question  its  value  to  rebeldom, 
as  the  spy  reported  only  what  he  was  told  by  that  old  fox 
Colonel  Truesdail. 

Perhaps  the  reader  will  inquire,  how  can  we  answer 
for  the  report  thus  made  to  Bragg?  it  may  have  been 
more  true  and  valuable  than  we  supposed.  "Well,  there 
is  force  in  the  query.  We  are  fallen  upon  strange  times, 
when  honesty,  virtue,  and  patriotism  are  at  heavy  dis- 
count in  rebeldom,  and  the  Indian's  idea  of  the  uncertainty 
of  white  men  is  by  no  means  a  myth.  However,  we  were 
then  quite  confident  of  the  worthlessness  of  the  report  of 
our'spy  to  Bragg,  because  he  had  nothing  else  to  tell  him. 
For  five  days  did  our  spy  keep  himself  locked  in  a  private 
room  in  the  police  building  at  Nashville.  His  meals 
were  carried  to  him  by  a  trusty  servant.  His  door  was 
"  shadowed"  constantly  by  our  best  detectives,  and  so 
were  his  steps  if  he  ventured  upon  the  street  for  a  few 
moments  after  dark.  It  was  cold  and  bleak  winter  weather, 
and  he  toasted  himself  before  his  comfortable  fire,  read 
books  and  papers,  and  conferred  often  with  the  Chief  of 
Police  and  his  assistant,  affording  them,  strangers  that 
they  were  to  that  region  of  country,  a  fund  of  valuable 
information  respecting  the  rebels  of  Kentucky  and  Ten- 
nessee,    He  was  a  man  of  fine  address  and  good  intel- 


A  XAMELES8  SPY.  8^ 

lectnal  attainments.  When  our  Man  concluded  it  was 
about  time  lor  his  return  to  Bragg's  army,  he  was  po- 
litely escorted  by  our  mounted  police  to  a  proper  point 
beyond  our  lines,  and  by  a  route  where  he  would  see 
nothing  of  our  forces.  The  reader  will  now  appreciate 
the  grounds  of  our  confidence,  we  doubt  not,  in  the  worth- 
lessness  at  least  of  one  of  General  Braxton  Bragg's  spy 
reports. 

In  due  time  this  nameless  gentleman  again  enters  our 
lines,  and  is  escorted  in  by  our  pickets  to  the  general 
commanding,  to  whom  he  reports  in  person  concerning 
all  that  is  transpiring  in  Bragg's  army  at  Murfreesborough, 
and  then  he  resumes  his  pleasant  private  quarters  at  the 
army  police  building.  How  little  could  the  rebel  Gen- 
eral Zollicoffer  have  thought  or  have  imagined  as  the 
wildest  dream,  while  building  his  elegant  house  in  High 
Street,  Nashville,  that  its  gorgeous  rooms  should  ever  be 
devoted  to  such  purposes!  After  a  brief  stay,  another 
trip  was  made  by  our  man  to  Bragg's  head-quarters,  we 
using  the  same  precautions  as  previously.  In  fact,  our 
spy  desired,  and  even  demanded  such  attention  at  the 
hands  of  the  Chief  of  Police.     Said  he — 

"I  am  a  stranger  to  you  all.  I  can  give  you  no  guar- 
antee whatever  of  my  good  f;iith.  It  is  alike  due  to  you 
and  to  myself  that  I  be  allowed  no  opportunities  for 
deceiving  you." 

The  report  lie  carried  to  Bragg  on  his  second  trip  de 
lighted  the  latter.  His  officers  talked  with  our  man  freely, 
and,  after  staying  at  Murfreesborough  two  or  three  days 
and  riding  and  walking  all  about  in  the  most  innocent 
and  unconcerned  manner,  he  was  again  sent  back  to 
Nashville  to  "fool  that  slow  Dutchman,  Rosecrans,"  as 
one  of  the  rebel  officers  remarked.  Of  the  importance 
of  the  report  now  brought  to  the  "  slow  Dutchman  "  we 
Deed  not  state  further  than  that  it  contributed  its  due 
weight  to  a  decision  fraught  with  tremendous  conse- 
quences to  the  army  and  to  the  country.    Marching  orders 


90  A  NAMELESS  SPY. 

were  soon  fifter  issued  for  the  advance  of  the  Army  of 
the  Cumberland  upon  Murfreesborough. 

Now  commenced  a  period  of  excessive  labor  and  peril 
for  the  nameless  spy.  Generals  Rosecrans  and  Bragg 
each  wanted  instant  and  constant  information  as  the 
armies  approached.  The  minutiiB  of  this  man's  work  for 
four  or  five  days  we  need  not  stop  to  relate :  it  is  easily 
imagined.  Within  that  time  he  entered  the  rebel  lines 
and  returned  three  times.  He  gave  the  outline  of  Bragg's 
line  of  battle,  a  close  estimate  of  his  force,  an  accurate 
account  of  his  artillery  and  his  eartliworks,  the  move- 
ments of  the  rebel  wagon  and  railroad  trains,  kc.  ko. 
He  was  very  earnest  in  assuring  Rosecrans  that  Bragg 
intended  to  give  severe  battle  with  superior  numbers. 

This  information  proved  true  in  all  essentials,  and  its 
value  to  the  country  was  inestimable.  We  had  other 
spies  piercing  the  rebel  lines  at  this  time,  but  they  did 
not  enjoy  the  facilities  possessed  by  the  nameless  one. 
Almost  with  anguish  did  he  exclaim  against  himself,  in 
the  presence  of  the  author,  for  the  severe  manner  in 
which  he  was  deceiving  the  rebel  general  and  involving 
the  lives  of  his  thousands  of  brave  but  deluded  followers. 

After  the  first  great  battle  the  work  of  such  a  spy  is 
ended,  or,  rather,  it  ceases  wlien  the  shock  of  arms  comes 
on.  Thenceforth  the  armies  are  moved  upon  the  instant, 
as  circumstances  may  require.  Our  man,  who  during 
the  four  days  had  been  almost  incessantly  in  the  saddle, 
or  with  his  ears  and  eyes  painfully  observant  while  in 
the  camps,  took  leave  of  our  army  upon  the  battle-field, 
and  retired  to  a  place  of  rest. 

One  incident  occurred  during  his  last  visit  to  Bragg 
which  is  worthy  of  mention.  That  general  took  alarm 
in  consequence  of  his  report,  and  at  once  started  a  special 
messenger  to  Gen.  John  H.  Morgan — who  was  then  absent 
with  his  cavalry  in  Kentucky  to  destroy  Rosecrans'  rail- 
road communications  (in  which  Morgan  succeeded) — to 
return  instantly  with  his  command  by  forced  marches  to 


A  NA>rELESS  SPY.  91 

^^nrfreesboroug^^.  That  same  night  our  man  reported 
ibis  fact  to  the  Federal  commander,  described  the  mes- 
senger and  Avhat  route  he  would  take,  kc.  The  informa- 
tion was  telegraphed  at  once  to  Nashville,  Gallatin,  and 
Bowling  Green,  and  a  force  was  sent  from  each  of  those 
posts  to  intercept  the  messenger.  They  failed  to  appre- 
hend him — which,  however,  proved  of  no  consequence, 
as  the  battles  of  Stone  River  were  fought  and  Bragg  was 
on  liis  retreat  from  Murfreesborough  by  the  time  Morgan 
could  have  received  the  orders. 

Our  spy  was  a  brave  man:  yet  during  the  last  three 
days  of  his  service  he  was  most  sensible  of  its  peril.  To 
pass  between  hostile  lines  in  the  lone  hours  of  the  night 
— for  he  did  not  wait  for  daylight — to  be  halted  by  guer- 
rillas and  scouts  and  pickets,  with  guns  aimed  at  him, 
and,  finally,  to  meet  and  satisfy  the  anxious,  keen-eyed, 
heart-searching  rebel  officers  as  well  as  our  own,  was  a 
mental  as  well  as  physical  demand  that  could  not  long 
be  sustained.  While  proceeding  upon  his  last  expedi- 
tion, the  author  met  the  nameless  one  upon  a  by-road. 
We  halted  our  horses,  drew  near,  and  conversed  a  few 
seconds  in  private,  while  our  attendants  and  companions 
moved  on.  He  was  greatly  exhausted  and  soiled  in 
appearance — his  clothing  having  been  rained  upon  and 
splashed  by  muddy  water,  caused  by  hard  riding,  and 
which  had  dried  upon  him.  He  said  he  was  about  to 
try  it  once  more,  and,  though  he  had  been  so  often 
and  so  successfully,  3'-et  he  feared  detection  and  its  sure 
result,  the  bullet  or  the  halter.  He  had  been  unable, 
amid  the  hurry  and  excitement,  to  make  some  final  dis- 
position of  his  affiairs.  He  gave  us  a  last  message  to 
Bend  to  his  wife  and  children  in  case  it  became  necessary ; 
and  he  also  desired  a  promise — most  freely  given — that 
we  would  attend  to  the  settlement  of  his  account  with 
our  general  for  services  recently  rendered.  Thus  con- 
cluding, he  wrung  our  hand  most  earnestly,  and  putting 
spurs  to  his  fresh  and  spirited  animal,  dashed  off  upon 


A  DARING  DEED. 


his  mission.  Twenty  hours  afterwards  we  were  relieved 
of  our  anxious  forebodings  bj  bis  safe  and  successful 
I'eturn.  The  price  paid  him  for  his  labors  was  well 
earned,  and  to  our  cause  was  a  most  profitable  invest- 
ment. 


A  DAEING  DEED. 

Captain  Spencer,  aid  to  General  Wool,  received  infor- 
mation from  two  ladies  who  went  from  Norfolk  to  Fort- 
ress Monroe  with  a  flag  of  truce,  that  near  midnight  a 
six-oared  boat' was  to  leave  Norfolk  for  Eichmond  with 
money  for  the  payment  of  rebel  soldiers.  He  requested 
permission  of  Major-General  Wool  to  attempt  their  cap- 
ture, and  was  told  not  to  place  too  much  confidence  in 
the  information  received.  Nevertheless,  permission  was 
given,  and  selecting  two  good  oarsmen  on  whom  he  could 
rely,  with  their  oars  muffled,  he  started  at  dark  and 
awaited  the  coming  of  the  enemy's  boat.  He  had  pre- 
viously given  direction  to  his  men  to  pull  directly  for 
the  boat,  and  on  the  moment  of  striking  to  "  back  water" 
instantly. 

About  midnight  the  boat  was  heard  approaching,  and 
taking  his  station  in  the  bows  with  a  nine-inch  shell  in 
his  hands,  he  gave  the  order  to  "  give  way."  The  moment 
his  bows  struck  the  rebel  boat,  he  threw  the  shell  into 
the  middle  of  it,  and  was  himself  drawn  back,  luckily 
receiving  no  injury  from  the  explosion.  Not  so  the  boat 
and  occupants,  however,  the  former  of  which  was  broken 
in  two,  and  the  latter  were  scattered  in  all  directions  in 
the  water,  not,  however,  before  discharging  their'  pistols 
at  him,  two  balls  going  through  his  cap,  and  three  per- 
forating his  coat. 

The  men  were  then  told  that  if  they  submitted  quietly 
they  would  be  saved,  otherwise  he  would  leave  them  to 
their  fate.     They  preferred  the  former,  and  arming  him- 


THE  IRISH  SENTINEL.  93 

self  witli  his  pistol  in  one  hand,  and  a  dirk  (taken  by  him 
at  the  Battle  of  Bull  Ran  from  a  "secesh")  in  the  other, 
he  took  them  in  his  boat  one  by  one,  handcuffing  them 
as  they  Avere  pulled  in.  In  addition  to  which,  from  the 
stern  of  the  enemy's  boat,  which  floated,  he  took  eleven 
hundred  dollars  in  gold,  and  five  thousand  dollars  in  their 
worthless  paper  money.  It  was  with  some  difficulty  that 
he  reached  the  Fort,  the  gunwale  of  the  boat  being  almost 
level  with  the  water  with  its  increased  freight. 


WOULDN'T  SELL. 

During  the  fighting  at  Fort  Donelson  a  young  man 
came  strolling  down  to  a  transport,  with  one  arm  ampu- 
tated, and  in  the  well  hand  holding  three  chickens  which 
he  had  captured.  A  steward  of  one  of  the  boats  stepped 
up  to  him,  and  asked  him  if  he  wanted  to  sell  the  chickens. 
He  looked  at  the  chickens  for  a  little  while  and  replied, 
"  Well,  no  ;  I  had  so  much  trouble  in  catching  the  d — d 
things,  I  believe  I'll  eat  'em  myself;"  and  off  he  went 
with  his  foivl  prisoners. 


THE  lEISH  SENTINEL. 

A  son  of  the  Green  Isle,  a  member  of  Gillam's  Mid- 
dle Tennessee  Regiment,  while  stationed  at  Nashville, 
was  detailed  on  guard  duty  on  a  prominent  street  of  that 
city.  It  was  his  first  experience  at  guard  mounting,  and 
he  strutted  along  his  beat,  apparently  with  a  full  appre- 
ciation of  the  dignity  and  importance  of  las  position. 
As  a  citizen  approached,  he  shouted — 

"  Halt !     W ho  comes  there  ?" 

"  A  citizen,"  was  the  response. 

"  Advance,  citizen,  and  give  the  countersign." 


94  THE  HOLLOW-HEELED  BOOT. 

"  I  haven't  the  countersign ;  and,  if  I  had,  the  demand 
for  it  at  this  time  and  place  is  something  very  strange  and 
unusual,"  rejoined  the  citizen. 

"  An'  by  the  howly  Moses,  ye  don't  pass  this  way  at 
all  till  ye  say  Bunker  Hill,"  was  Pat's  reply. 

The  citizen,  appreciating  the  "  situation,"  advanced, 
and  cautiously  whispered  in  his  ear  the  necessary  words, 

"Eight  1  Pass  on."  And  the  wide-awake  sentinel  re- 
sumed his  beat. 


GOOD  FOE  THE  BELGIANS! 

A  good  story  is  told  of  an  Illinois  Colonel  who  was 
heard  praising  the  Belgian  musket.  Says  he — "In  pla- 
toon firing  with  the  Belgian  musket,  I  can  tell  what  I 
cannot  with  any  other  arm,  and  that  is,  how  many  pieces 
have  been  fired." 

"  How  can  you  tell  that  ?" 

"  Oh  !  I  count  the  men  on  the  ground.  It  never  deceives 
me.     It  is  'fire  and /a/?  hack\ifiatr 

One  of  these  Belgian  muskets  wil-1  kick  like  a  mule, 
and  burst  with  the  greatest  facility.  Several  soldiers 
have  been  killed  in  tb.is  way.  The  bayonet  too  is  a  no- 
velty— a  soft  iron  affair,  apparently  designed  to  coil  round, 
the  enemy  as  it  is  introduced,  thus  taking  him  prisoner. 


THE  HOLLOW-HEELED  BOOT. 

In  the  earlier  days  of  the  rebellion  there  lived  in  South- 
eastern ^[issouri  one  Ogilvie  Byron  Young.  He  was  a 
wild,  graceless  scamp,  rich  in  the  blood  of  his  ancestors, 
but  poor  in  purse.  To  the  pride  of  Lucifer  he  added  the 
courage  of  Falstaflf  and  the  honor  of  lago.  A  scion  of 
Virginia's  aristocracy,  he  deemed  himself  a  statesman 
from  birth  and  an  orator  by  nature.     Showy  in  manner 


THE  HOLLOW-IIEELED  BOOT.  95 

and  superficial  in  attainments,  he  could  act  the  accom- 
plished  gentleman  or  the  bullying  braggart  as  best  suited 
the  occasion.  Vain,  reckless,  and  boastful,  he  was  scorned 
as  a  visionary  enthusiast  by  some,  feared  as  a  bold,  bad 
man  by  others,  but  admired  as  a  genuine  Southern  cava- 
lier of  the  old  school  by  those  who  knew  him  least. 
"Wildly  imaginative,  but  immensely  unpractical,  he 
plunged  madly  into-  the  first  waves  of  rebellion,  and, 
while  Sterling  Price  was  yet  a  Union  general  and  Clai- 
borne F.  Jackson  a  loyal  Governor,  dared  to  avow  and 
advocate  opinions  of  the  most  ultra-Southern  character. 
Fine-drawn  theoretical  arguments  on  the  right  and  duty 
of  secession  were  spread  before  the  people  of  the  State, 
in  column  after  column  of  letters  published  in  newspapers 
and  to  which  was  attached  the  full  signature,  "  Ogilvie 
Byron  Young."  The  rough  back-woodsmen  of  his  county 
were  momentarily  swayed  by  his  presumptuous  clamor, 
and  he  was  sent  to  the  first  Missouri  State  Convention. 
Here  he  was  the  only  member  that  took  strong  ground 
in  favor  of  secession  per  se,  gaining  thereby  not  a  little 
notoriety.  The  State  did  not  secede;  but  Ogilvie  Byron 
Young  did,  and  for  some  months  he  was  not  so  much  as 
heard  from. 

In  the  fall  of  1861  he  was  arrested  at  the  Spencer 
House,  Cincinnati,  as  a  spy.  In  due  time  an  indictment 
and  trial  followed ;  but,  though  there  was  abundant  evi- 
dence of  guilt,  he  escaped  conviction  by  means  of  some 
technical  informality  in  the  proceedings.  He  was  ordered 
to  leave  the  city,  however,  and  did  so.  In  the  following 
spring  he  was  found  in  Covington,  Kentucky,  under  an 
assumed  name,  aiding  and  abetting  the  rebels  b}^  furnish- 
ing information,  and  was  again  arrested.  He  had  been 
cautioned  by  some  one,  it  would  seem ;  for  there  was 
found  nothing  upon  him  in  the  way  of  papers  or  letters 
to  warrant  his  detention,  and  he  was  again  released  to 
again  disappear  from  sight  for  some  months. 

lu  November,  1862,  he  is  again  met  with,  iu  Nashville, 


96  THE  nOLLOW-HEELED  BOOT. 

where  lie  bad  been  for  some  weeks  as  a  paroled  prisoner, 
but  acting  all  the  Avhile  in  his  old  capacity  of  smuggler 
and  spy.  In  this  business  he  seems  to  have  had  remark- 
able success,  until  his  career  was  fortunately  arrested  by 
a  combination  of  circumstances  and  the  watchful  shrewd- 
ness of  the  army  police.  About  the  last  of  that  month 
Young  was  introduced  to  a  gentleman  who  represented 
himself  as  a  hostage  for  the  return  of  certain  loyal  Missis- 
sippians  captured  at  luka  and  treated  by  Price  as  traitors, 
contrary  to  the  terms  of  the  cartel  between  the  Federal 
and  Confederate  Governments.  At  first  he  was  shy  and 
suspicious,  but  was  finally  convinced  that  his  new 
acquaintance  was  really  what  he  purported  to  be,  and 
heartily  entered  into  all  his  plans  for  the  advancement 
of  the  Confederate  cause.  As  his  confidence  grew  stronger, 
he  remarked  that  he  had  been  of  more  benefit  to  the 
South,  as  a  spy,  than  any  brigade  of  rebel  soldiers.  He 
had  encouraged  desertions  in  the  Federal  camps,  and  made 
out  paroles  in  the  names  of  Morgan  and  Kirby  Smith. 
The  business  was  getting  a  little  dangerous  now,  however, 
and  he  should  get  beyond  the  lines  as  soon  as  possible. 
He  would  have  gone  long  ago,  only  that  he  had  expected 
to  be  saved  the  trouble  and  expense  of  the  trip  by  the 
fall  of  Nashville. 

Our  luka  hostage  then  informed  him  that  Mrs.  Major 
Kanney— wife  of  ]\[ajor  Ranney,  of  the  6th  Texas  Regi- 
ment—was in  the  city,  under  his  charge,  and  just  returned 
from  Europe,  whither  she  liad  been  on  diplomatic  busi- 
ness for  the  Confederate  Government.  She  had  in  her 
possession  very  important  despatches,  and  was  anxious 
to  get  safely  through  the  lines  with  the'm.  Young  said, 
in  reply,  that  he  would  bring  his  influence  to  bear  upon 
the  army  officials  in  her  favor,  but  in  case  she  should  be 
searched  it  would  be  well  to  provide  for  such  a  contin- 
gency. There  was,  he  said,  in  the  city  a  man  by  the 
name  of  Thompson,  ostensibly  a  citizen,  but  really  a  rebel 
lieutenant  in  Bragg's  army,  and  now  acting  as  a  spy. 


THE  HOLLOW-HEELED  BOOT.  9T 

fie  had  mhde  the  trip  through  the  lines  ten  or  twelve 
times,  and  could  do  it  again.  He  was  now  engaged  in 
drawing  a  map  of  the  fortifications  around  Nashville  and 
procuring  information  as  to  the  numbers  of  the  troops, 
&c.,  which  should  be  forthcoming  in  due  season.  These 
secret  despatches  of  Mrs.  Rannev's  together  vvith  this 
map  and  other  papers,  could  be  hidden  in  the  heel  of  a 
boot,  which  would  be  made  for  them  by  a  bootmaker  of 
the  city  in  the  employ  of  the  Confederate  Government. 
His  name  was  C.  J.  Zeutzschell,  and  his  shop  was  on 
Union  Street. 

This  plan  was  agreed  to,  and  Young  was  to  assist  in 
the  execution  of  it ;  in  return  for  which,  he  was  to  be 
placed  in  a  high  position  at  Richmond.  Young's  reputa- 
tion, however,  was  not  of  the  best,  and  the  bootmaker 
would  do  nothing  for  him,  when  called  upon,  without 
first  making  inquiries  among  his  friends  and  consulting 
with  our  hostage,  for  whom  the  boots  were  wanted. 

Accordingly,  Zeutzschell  came  to  his  room  one  evening 
and  said  that  Young  had  been  to  his  house  and  wished 
him  to  make  a  pair  of  boots  and  to  secrete  important 
documents  in  them  so  as  to  defy  detection.  He  had  no 
confidence  in  Young's  honor,  and  did  not  wish  to  do  it 
for  him.  He  knew  him  as  identified  with  the  Confed- 
erates, indeed,  but  he  was  a  bad  man,  low  in  his  habits 
and  associates,  never  had  any  money,  &c.  He  (Zeutzschell) 
had  been  inquiring  of  the/V«>n(/s  of  the  South — undoubted 
Becessionists — concerning  him  (our  luka  hostage),  and 
was  convinced  that  he  was  a  gentleman  and  a  true 
Southerner.  He  would  do  anything  to  promote  the  cause 
— money  was  no  object — he  would  lay  down  his  life  for 
it.  If  Young  could  be  thrown  off  the  track,  he  would 
make  the  boots  and  secrete  in  them  a  ma])  of  the  fortifi- 
cations about  Nashville.  His  brother-in-law,  Harris, 
would  go  out  and  see  if  any  new  ones  had  been  erected. 
If  not,  he  had  a  perfect  plan  of  them  in  his  head,  to  prove 
which  he  immediately  sat  down  and  drafted  one.  Ho 
7 


98  PRESENCE  OF  MIND. 

remarked  that  he  had  recently  sent  several  such  to 
General  Morgan.  He  had  made  the  boots  for  all  the 
spies  in  the  same  way,  and  not  one  had  ever  been  detected. 
He  had  sent  valuable  information  in  a  common  pipe, 

"  Can  you  get  a  pass  for  your  man  ?"  asked  our  hostage. 

"  Certainly,"  was  the  reply ;  "  as  many  as  you  like.  There 
is  a  German  at  head-quarters  who  steals  blank  passes  for 
me,  and  I  fill  them  up  myself.  I  give  him  whiskey  for 
them." 

He  would  like  to  go  South  too,  he  said,  in  conclusion. 
He  could  describe  the  fortifications  so  much  better  than 
in  a  map. 

Both  parties  being  satisfied,  an  agreement  for  the  boots 
was  made.  Zeutzschell  was  to  get  the  exact  distances 
of  the  defences,  the  number  and  disposition  of  the  troops, 
«kc.,  and  secrete  them,  together  with  Mrs.  Eanney's 
despatches,  in  the  heel  of  one  of  the  boots.  This  he  did, 
according  to  promise :  the  boots  were  made  and  delivered 
on  the  evening  appointed.  Instead  of  reaching  Generals 
Bragg  and  Morgan,  as  intended,  however,  the  maps, 
papers,  boots,  owner,  maker,  and  spy,  suddenly  found 
themselves  in  the  hands  of  the  army  police,  much  to  the 
astonishment  and  chagrin  of  all  parties  concerned.  Zeutz- 
schell and  Young  were  sent  to  the  military  prison  at 
Alton. 


PEESENCE  OF  MIND. 

The  account  given  by  Capt.  Strong,  of  the  Second  Wis- 
consin  Kegiment,  of  his  escape  from  rebel  captors,  will 
be  read  with  interest.     It  is  as  follows : — 

As  I  was  passing  through  a  thicket,  I  was  surrounded 
by  six  rebel  soldiers — four  infantry  and  two  cavalry.  The 
footmen  were  poorly  dressed  and  badly  armed,  having 
old  rusty  altered  muskets.  The  cavalry  were  well 
mounted  and  well  armed. 


PRESENCE  OF  MIND.  99 

Seeing  T  was  caught,  I  thought  it  best  to  surrender  at 
oi.ce.     So  I  said — "  Gentlemen,  you  have  me." 

I  was  asked  various  questions  as  to  who  I  was,  where 
I  was  going,  what  regiment  I  belonged  to,  &c.,  all  of 
which  I  refused  to  answer. 

One  of  the  footmen  said — "  Let's  hang  the  d — d  Yankee 
scoundrel,"  and  pointed  to  a  convenient  limb. 

Another  said,  "No,  let's  take  him  to  camp  and  hang 
him  there." 

One  of  the  cavalry,  who  seemed  to  be  the  leader,  said, 
"  We  will  take  him  to  camp." 

They  then  marched  me  through  an  open  place — two 
footmen  in  front,  two  in  the  rear,  and  a  cavalry  man  on 
each  side  of  me.  I  was  armed  with  two  revolvers  and 
my  sword.  After  going  some  twenty  rods,  the  sergeant, 
who  was  on  my  right,  noticing  my  pistols,  commanded 
me  to  halt  and  give  them  up,  together  with  my  sword. 

I  said,  "  Certainly,  gentlemen,"  and  immediately  halted. 
As  I  stopped,  they  all  filed  past  me,  and,  of  course  were 
in  front. 

We  were  at  this  time  in  an  open  part  of  the  woods, 
but  about  sixty  yards  to  the  rear  was  a  thicket  of  under- 
growth. Thus  everything  was  in  my  favor.  I  was  quick 
of  foot  and  a  passable  shot.  Yet  the  design  of  escape 
was  not  formed  until  I  brought  my  pistol  pouches  to  the 
front  part  of  my  body,  and  my  hands  touched  the  stocks. 
The  grasping  of  the  pistols  suggested  my  cocking  them 
as  I  drew  them  out.  This  I  did,  and  the  moment  I  got 
command  of  them  I  shot  down  the  two  footmen  nearest 
me — about  six  feet  off — one  with  each  hand.  I  immedi- 
ately turned  and  ran  toward  the  thicket  in  the  rear. 

The  confusion  of  my  captors  was  apparently  so  great 
that  I  had  nearly  reached  cover  before  shots  were  fired 
at  me.  One  ball  passed  through  my  left  cheek,  passing 
out  of  my  mouth.  Another  one — a  musket  ball — went 
through  my  canteen. 

Immediately  upon  this  volley,  the  two  cavalry  sepa- 


100  AN  INGENIOrs  DODGE. 

rated,  one  to  my  right,  and  the  other  to  my  left,  to  cut 
off  my  retreat — the  remaining  two  footmen  charging 
directly  toward  me.  I  turned  when  the  horsemen  got 
up,  and  fired  three  or  four  shots ;  but  the  balls  flew  wild. 
I  .still  ran  on — got  over  a  small  knoll,  and  had  nearly 
regained  one  of  our  pickets,  when  I  was  headed  off  by 
both  of  the  mounted  men. 


AN  INGENIOUS  DODGE. 

Upon  one  occasion,  when  Rosecrans  had  "  shut  down" 
upon  passes  for  officers'  and  soldiers'  wives,  a  member  of 
the  former  class  telegraphed  from  Louisville  to  General 
Garfield,  Chief  of  Staff",  that  her  husband,  an  artillery 
of&cer,  was  very  sick— perhaps  dying — and  that  she  must 
see  him,  and  requested  the  general  to  authorize  the  issuing 
to  her  of  a  pass  to  Murfreesborough.  The  general's  heart 
was  touched ;  but  knowing  nothing  of  the  matter,  he  re- 
lerred  it  to  Col.  Barnett,  Chief  of  Artillery.  The  colonel, 
100,  sympathized  with  the  distressed  wife,  and  kindly 
sent  an  orderly  out  to  the  husband's  battery  to  inquire 
mto  his  condition,  that  the  devoted  wife  might  be  advised 
chereof.  Speedily  the  husband  himself  came  in,  wdth  as- 
tonishment depicted  in  his  face.  Something's  the  matter, 
somewhere  or  somehow,  he  doesn't  exactly  know  what. 

"  IIow  do  you  do  ?"  asks  the  artillery  chief. 

"First-rate,  sir." 

"  Where  have  you  been  of  late?" 

"  At  my  battery — on  duty." 

*'  Have  you  not  been  sick  lately  ?" 

'  No,  indeed  !     Never  had  better  health  in  my  life." 

"  Quite  sure  of  it,  are  you  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  am." 

"You  have  been  on  duty  all  tbe  time?  Haven't  you 
been  absent  from  your  command  at  all?" 

••  Not  a  day." 


"old  GAP,"  OF  TENNESSEE.  101 

"  Perfectly  well  now— no  consumption,  liver-complaint, 
fever,  spleen,  or  Tennessee  quickstep  ?  eh  ?"' 

"  Certainly  not.     Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

In  reply  to  this  query  the  telegram  of  his  anxious  wife 
was  handed  to  him.  He  read  it,  looked  down  and  pon- 
dered for  a  moment  in  silent  wonder  at  the  ingenuit}^  of 
woman,  then  called  for  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  a  general 
"smile"  circulated  among  the  bystanders.  The  loving 
wife  was  informed  by  telegraph  tliat  her  husband  was 
in  no  danger — in  fact,  was  doing  remarkably  well.  Thus 
she  was  circumvented  for  a  time.  Yet  to  "  vindicate  the 
truth  of  history,"  we  must  add  that  she  gained  her  point 
in  some  other  way — what  Yankee  wife  will  not  ? — and 
made  her  visit  successfully. 


"OLD  GAP,"  or  TENITESSEE. 

We  are  just  below  the  Virginia  State  line  in  Eastern 
Tennessee,  exactly  where  the  two  States  touch  like  a  pair 
of  wedges,  each  pressing  against  the  other. 

The  time  is  early  March,  and  the  party,  seven  hardy, 
hard-fisted,  and  partially  armed  men,  seated  about  a  camp 
fire. 

There  is  nothing  marked  in  the  faces  or  persons  of  six 
of  the  party,  but  the  seventh  is  a  human  speciality  and 
will  bear  description. 

John  Davis  stood  "  six  foot  four  without  boots,"  accord- 
ing to  his  own  declaration.  At  the  time  of  our  notice, 
not  less  than  seventy  winters  had  passed  over  his  head, 
whitening  his  hair  and  bending  his  form  somewhat,  but 
putting  no  dimness  in  his  eye,  nor  yet  taking  any  strength 
from  his  hand.  The  father  of  John  Davis  had  j:>een  one 
of  the  early  emigrants  from  North  Carolina,  and  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  wilderness  of  East  Tennessee  the  boy 
}iad  been  cradled  and  reached  maturity.  It  was  the  boast 
of  John  that  his  father  Avas  the  first  white  man  that  had 


102  "OLD  GAP,"  OP  TENNESSEE. 

passed  through  Cumberland  Gap,  and  so  firmly  did  the 
old  woodsman  look  upon  this  as  a  distinction,  that  when 
the  title  of  "  Cumberland  Gap  "  was  bestowed  upon  him 
and  used  instead  of  his  own  name,  John  felt  honored  in 
the  bestowal.  In  time  this  became  shortened  to  "  Gap," 
and  in  further  time,  when  age  crept  on,  "  Old  Gap  "  was 
as  well  known  through  all  the  section  as  the  spot  from 
whence  the  sobriquet  was  derived. 

"  A-a-a-ow  !"  stretched  one  of  the  men  with  a  long  yawn. 
"  The  boys  are  a  long  time  comin'  in.  Reckon  they  must 
be  pickin'  up  suthin'." 

"D'know  what  they  kin  pick  up  out  o'  that  God-for- 
saken place,"  responded  another. 

"  Wish  to  thunder  they'd  pick  up  a  little  whiskey," 
was  the  sullen  remark  of  a  third,  "  my  throat's  as  dry  as 
stubble  for  a  drink,  an  nuthin'  but  water." 

"  What  did  Gord.  Hopper  say  to  you,  Smith  ?"  asked 
the  old  man  of  the  one  who  spoke  last. 

"  Say !  why  he  said  if  we'd  lay  over  for  to-day  in  this 
'ere  hollow,  he'd  be  in  afore  night  and  fetch  us  what  we 
wanted.  Now  I  d'know  whether  he  reckons  on  what  we 
want  or  no,  but  if  he  fetches  all  I  want  he'll  be  right 
smart." 

"Did  he  say  he'd  fetch  down  any  more  of  the  boj^s?" 
was  the  old  man's  question. 

"Yes,  s-i-r,  that's  the  main  pint.  He's  gwine  to  bring 
down  all  the  boys  to  Jonesville  that'll  come,  and  maybe 
some  that'll  not  come,  too." 

The  old  man  made  no  response  to  this,  only  to  look 
long  and  earnestly  at  the  speaker,  as  though  to  solve  the 
meaning  of  every  word  uttered,  lie  turned  quickly  to 
the  other  men  and  spoke — 

"  Wal-,  boys,  if  I'm  to  be  captain,  then  I  say  that  we'll 
get  out  of  this  at  dayliglit  to-morrow  morning,  no  matter 
whether  Gord.  Hoy)per  comes  or  no.     Is  that  so,  boys  ?" 

A  hearty  "Yes,"  from  all  hands  told  the  old  man  that 
ho  had  spoken  according  to  their  wishes,  when  at  the  very 


"old  gap,"  of  TENNESSEE.  108 

moment  of  utterance  a  long  sliout  was  lieard  from  the 
distanca,  and  every  man  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant. 

"  That's  Gord.  Hopper's  voice,"  said  one  of  the  party. 

"Gord.  Hopper  be  blowed,"  answered  another; 

"  he  never  opened  his  jaws  as  naturally  as  that  since  he 
was  born." 

"  You  Jake,"  said  the  old  man,  "  run  up  to  the  edge  o' 
the  hill  and  see  if  ye  kin  look  down  t'wards  the  river. 
If  all's  right  come  back ;  if  thar's  anything  wrong,  shoot 
offyer  iron  an'  run  down  towards  Clinton,  and  we'll  jine 
ye  afore  ye  get  thar." 

The  man  was  away  in  a  moment,  while  the  rest  of  the 
party  listened  earnestly.  In  a  very  few  minutes  Jake 
was  seen  coming  back  swinging  his  rifle  lazily  and 
whistling. 

"  Gord.  Hopper  and  some  other  fellers,  and  a  woman," 
v/as  his  answer  to  the  inquiring  looks,  as  he  took  his  seat 
by  the  camji  fire. 

"  A  woman  !"  was  Old  Gap's  questioning  exclamation 
as  he  turned  in  the  direction  the  party  was  coming;  but 
before  there  was  an  explanation  they  were  seen  winding 
around  the  hill,  and  in  a  moment  more  were  in  camp. 
They  were  six — five  men  and  a  woman  -the  last  moutited 
on  a  sorry  jade  of  a  horse,  and  sharing  the  room  upon 
his  back  with  a  well-filled  bag,  slung  pannier-fashion  with 
a  10-gallon  keg.  The  old  man  stood  aloof  as  the  party 
filed  in,  and,  leaning  on  his  rifle,  listened  with  a  lowering 
brow  to  the  greetings  and  jibes  that  passed  between  his 
men  and  the  new-comers. 

"  Why  Gord.,"  said  he  whom  we  have  called  Smith, 
"what  in  thunder  did  you  want  to  fetch  Jim  Blunt'.s 
da'ter  along  for?  Couldn't  ye  go  down  to  Dixie  for  a 
spell  without  yer  gal?  An'  that  'ere  suckin'  brother  of 
hers,  too;  )''e  can't  make  Secesh  o'  him  — anyhow,  tain't 
in  the  blood.  The  old  man's  half  abolilioner,  an'  I  guess 
the  gal  an'  boy  ain't  much  better." 

"  That's  none  o'  your  busine^fs,"  drawled  out  Hopper, 


104  "old  gap,"  op  TENNESSEE. 

sullenly ;  "  I  brouglit  'em  along  because  I  wan':  to  keep 
^eni  under  my  eye.  I  ain't  listed  yet,  Zack  Smith,  an' 
I  don't  mean  to  let  anybody  tell  me  what  to  do  until  I 
have." 

"  Wal,  there  now,  there's  no  use  getting  mad  'bout  it; 
but  you  see,  Gord.,  everybody  knows  that  you've  been 
sweet  on  Jim  Blunt's  gal  a  long  while,  an'  if  you've  taken 
her  off  now  without  her  will — an'  I  reckon  you  have  by 
the  looks  of  her  face— there's  going  to  be  tight  work  of 
it.  The  old  man  ain't  going  to  give  it  up  so ;  an'  if  I 
reckon  right,  there's  'Bimelech  Puitiy  she's  engaged  to, 
an'  he's  some  too." 

"D — n  'Bimelech  Pardy;  I'll  spurt  my  knife  'cross 
her  wizen  afore  ever  he  shall  have  her." 

"  Wal,  I've  said  my  say,  an'  all  I've  got  to  say  besides 
is  this :  I  don't  believe  our  fellers  reckon  on  fightin'  any 
about  a  woman.  They're  goin'  out  to  fight  for  the  South, 
End  don't  want  any  private  qu'erls  on  hand." 

'•'  Wal,  all  I've  got  to  say  is  this— that  if  you  don't  Avant 
to  fight  for  me,  Zack  Smith,  you  can  go  to " 

"  Whew  !  hold  yer  horses,  Gord.  Don't  let's  come  to 
it  rash.     There's  time  enough  yet." 

This  ended  the  colloquy,  and  both  parties  turned  away 
with  a  mutual  look  of  disgust.  The  girl  still  sat  upon 
the  horse,  looking  around  inquiringly  from  face  to  face, 
as  though  trying  to  spell  out  friends  from  foes.  The 
brother  had  not  yet  released  his  hold  upon  the  bridle,  but 
stood  as  though  in  momentary  expectation  of  an  order  to 
go  forward. 

Hopper  moved,  after  his  conversation  with  Smith,  direct 
to  the  spot  where  sat  Ellen  Blunt.  She  had  watched  hi.s 
talk  with  Smith,  and  knew  both  that  she  was  the  subject 
of  it  and  that  there  had  been  a  disagreement. 

A  ray  of  hope  shot  across  her  heart,  as  she  thought 
that  perhaps  even  among  those  who  were  supposed  to  be 
working  in  concert  with  him,  all  were  not  the  friends  of 
the  man  who  had  brought  her  there.     A  bitter  look  of 


"old  gap,"  of  TENNESSEE.  105 

hatred  covered  her  pretty  face  as  he  offered  his  hand  and 
said — 

"  Come,  Ilattie,  light  down  !" 

"For  what?" 

"  For  what !  why,  for  rest  and  supper,  to  be  sure.  Your 
journey's  ended  for  to-day." 

"See  here,  Gordon  Hopper,  perhaps  you  don't  know 
what  you've  been  doing.  If  so,  I  count  it  my  duty  to 
tell  you.  There  may  be  no  law  for  Old  Virginia  now, 
but  the  day  will  come  when  you'll  be  afraid  to  put  your 
foot  back  on  her  soil  for  the  work  you've  done  this  day." 

"  Oh  come !  light  down,  Ilattie,  and  don't  talk.  There's 
no  law  here,  you  know.  I  wan't  agoing  to  leave  Jones- 
ville  without  you.  P'haps  some  o'  those  Yankee  sogers 
that'll  be  swarming  in  thar  soon  might  have  carried  you 
off,  anyhow." 

"  Yes,  and  I'd  rather  be  carried  off  or  butchered  by 
those  same  Yankees,  that  you  arc  so  fond  of  talking  about, 
ten  times  over,  than  to  be  ten  minutes  in  the  presence  of  a 
traitor  and  a  rebel,"  and  the  girl's  dark  eyes  flashed  de- 
fiantly on  the  men  that  stood  loitering  around. 

"Haven't  you  got  your  brother  with  you?"  resumed 
Hopper;  "what  do  vou  want  more'n  that?  Wait  a  bit, 
an'  he'll  make  just  as  good  a  Confederate  soger  as  the 
best  of  'em." 

"  Never !"  shouted  the  boy.  "  That's  a  lie,  Gord.  Hopper, 
and  you  know  it.  You  can  take  my  heart's  blood,  but 
you'll  never  make  me  fight  for  your  cursed  Stars  and 
Bars.     Hurrah  for  the  Stars  and  Stripes!" 

A  laugh  went  up  from  the  men  at  the  vehemence  of 
the  boy,  and  at  this  moment  Old  Gap  came  to  the  side  of 
the  girl. 

"  Come,  gal,  you'll  have  to  light  down  for  the  time,  any- 
how. We  must  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain.  I  know 
your  father,  an'  I  won't  let  an}^  harm  come  to  ye,  if  I  can 
help  it,  an'  I  reckon  I  kin  help  it,"  he  said,  turning  with 
a  menacing  look  to  Hopper. 


10(5  "old  GAP,"  OF  TENNESSEE. 

The  girl  put  her  hand  in  the  old  man's,  and  sprang  to 
the  ground,  saying  as  she  did  so — 

"  I  know  you,  Gap,  and  if  my  father  ain't  mistaken  in 
you,  I  shall  never  meet  harm  at  your  hands,  but  I  don't 
see  how  an  honest  man  like  yourself  came  to  be  mixed 
up  with  this  set." 

"  Wal,  ye  see,  gal,  we  can't  all  think  alike.  Now  if  it 
so  be  as  yer  father  b'Jieves  in  the  North  an'  the  Aboli- 
tioners,  an'  I  don't,  that  ain't  agoin'  to  make  either  on  us 
any  wuss,  is  it?  " 

"  You  are  all  misled  through  3^our  own  ignorance,  and 
are  going  to  fight  for  a  bad  cause,  and  more  than  that, 
you'll  all  be  whipped,  too." 

The  men  all  stood  around  in  silence,  gazing  upon  the 
girl,  whose  beauty  added  to  her  words  of  fire  kept  them 
spellbound.  She  knew  it,  and  determined  to  improve 
the  opportunity. 

"  Do  you  call  yourselves  men,  and  lend  your  aid  to  drag 
a  Avoman  from  her  liome,  for  no  other  end  than  to  help  a 
wretch  like  Gord.  Hopper  ?  I  tell  you,  every  one,  as  I 
have  told  him,  that  you  can  drag  me  over  the  face  of  the 
earth,  and  treat  me  worse  than  ever  woman  was  treated 
before,  and  yet  I  shall  say  as  I  do  now,  I'll  never  marry 
Gordon  IIo]iper  or  desert  my  faith  in  the  flag." 

A  shout  of  admiration  went  up  from  the  men,  all  but 
Hopper,  who  stood  scowling  furiously  on  the  whole  scene. 
Once  more  spoke  Old  Gap — 

"  Wal,  gal,  I  think  ye'll  have  to  mess  with  me  to-night, 
and  in  the  morning  we'll  see  what  kin  be  done.  Now 
then,  will  you  or  Gap  be  cook  ?" 

Like  a  tiger  just  unbound  sprang  Gordon  Hopper  into 
the  midst  of  the  little  circle. 

"  Look'ee  here,  boys,  I  want  to  know  at  won'st  who's 
captain  of  this  gang.  If  that  old  man  is,  don't  count  me 
in,  I've  stood  it  long  enough.  You've  all  taken  3^our 
jaw  about  it,  and  listened  to  what  that  girl  has  to  say ;  now 
you   kin  hear   me.     To-morrow  mornin'  I'm   goin'  on 


"  OLD  OAF,"  OF  TENNESSEE.  107 

towards  Nasliville,  and  I'm  goin'  to  carry  that  gal  witli  me, 
an'  I'm  d— d  if  I  wouldn't  like  to  see  the  man  that's  goin' 
to  stop  me." 

Old  Gap  had  seated  himself  on  a  log  when  he  had  in- 
vited Ilattie  Blunt  to  be  cook,  and  had  listened  to  this 
harangue  from  his  seat.  When  it  ended,  and  the  threat 
was  uttered,  the  old  man  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant. 
There  was  no  stoop  in  his  back  now.  His  brown,  long 
hand  went  straight  to  the  long  hunting-knife  in  his  belt, 
and  his  lips  closed  firmly  for  an  instant  before  he  spoke — 

"I'm  the  man,  stranger!  I'm  the  man  that  says  that 
gal  '11  never  go  to  Nashville  Avith  you  without  her  bein' 
W'illin'.  As  to  who's  captain  of  this  gang,  I  don't  care  a 
continental  d — n  ;  that's  for  the  boys  to  say.  But  I've  got 
da'ters  myself,  and  they've  got  da'ters  of  their  own,  an' 
I  don't  mean  to  let  anything  happen  to  Jim  Blunt's  gal 
but  what's  right." 

Hopper  looked  around  upon  the  faces  about  him,  bnt 
the  expression  did  not  satisfy  him,  and  from  them  to  that 
of  the  old  man,  which  had  by  no  means  a  pleasing  look. 
His  fingers  had  been  playing  nervously  with  the  hammer 
of  his  rifle,  but  gradually  they  closed  over  it,  and  his 
eyes  dropped. 

"Oh,  put  away  yer  shootin-iron,  boy.  The  time  hasn't 
come  yet  for  you  to  think  of  shootin'  Old  Gap.  Wait 
till  ye  git  into  a  skrimmage  where  3'e  kin  do  it  safe,  be- 
cause we're  both  fightin'  on  the  same  side.  Then  I 
wouldn't  trust  ye  a  bit." 

Hopper  bit  his  lip,  looked  up  with  a  sudden  glance  of 
fire,  and  then  turned  away  and  walked  into  the  wood. 

Hattie  had  been  busy  during  these  last  words,  assisted 
by  her  brother,  in  preparing  the  evening  meal,  and  at 
the  same  time  paying  close  attention  to  all  that  was  said. 
The  old  man  cast  a  sudden  glance  upon  the  dozen  faces 
that  stood  about  the  camp-fire,  and  from  them  to  the 
girl  who  Avas  bending  over  its  blaze.  There  was  some- 
thing in  the  look  of  Old  Gap  that  spoke  command,  and 


108  "old  gap/'  op  TENNESSEE. 

as  quickly  as  lie  glanced  around  tlic  old  man  knew  that 
his  earnestness  had  taken  its  proper  effect,  and  that  he 
could  depend  upon  the  men  to  aid  him  in  the  promise  he 
had  given  before  Hattie  to  defend  her. 

"  Who  was  along  with  Gord.  Hopper  when  he  took  this 
gal  and  boy  ?''  was  his  question. 

Three  of  the  party  answered. 

"  Yer  a  nice  set  o'  boys,"  said  the  old  man,  with  a  sneer. 
"  Ye  might  better  been  at  suthin  else.  You've  let  Gord. 
Hopper  use  you  to  do  what,  maybe,  may  bring  ye  into 
trouble,  allowin'  ye  should  ever  want  to  go  back  to  Jones- 
ville." 

The  three  men  hung  their  heads  under  the  rebuke,  and 
soon  followed  the  example  of  their  leader  by  sneaking 
oft"  and  hanging  about  the  skirts  of  the  party. 

The  supper  was  served  as  only  the  hands  of  a  woman 
could  have  served  it  with  the  rough  culinary  conve- 
niences of  the  woodmen,  and  the  party  settled  for  the 
night's  rest.  It  was  Old  Gap's  turn  now  to  play  the  gal-_ 
lant,  for  Hattie  Blunt  refused  the  oftered  attentions  of  the 
rest.  The  old  man  gathered  and  made  the  girl  a  bed  of 
dried  leaves,  on  the  leeward  side  of  a  great  log,  and  his 
blanket,  in  spite  of  all  her  assurances  that  she  did  not 
need  it,  was  the  one  that  covered  her  during  sleep.  The 
old  man  had  been  living  the  life  of  a  hunter  both  of 
"  bar"  and  "  Ingin"  too  long  not  to  know  the  importance 
of  sleeping  with  one  eye  open,  and  of  such  a  nature  were 
his  slumbers  this  night.  Once  or  twice  the  old  fellow 
raised  himself  stealthily  to  a  sitting  posture,  grasped  his 
rifle,  and  peered  out  into  the  darkness,  and  then,  counting 
the  sleeping  figures  in  the  group,  he  would  settle  un- 
easily down  into  his  place. 

With  the  breaking  of  dawn  in  the  east  every  one 
sprang  to  their  feet,  each  feeling  that  the  next  hour  was 
fraught  with  action. 

Gord.  Hopper  had  declared  that  he  was  going  to  Nash- 
ville, and  that  he   should  take   Hattie  Blunt  and  her 


"OLD  GAP,"  OF  TENNESSEE.  109 

brother  Avith  liim,  while  Old  Gap  had  as  emphatically 
declared  that  the  girl  should  not  go  a  step  without  lier 
own  consent.  Tlie  coming  struggle  between  the  two,  for 
struggle  it  certainly  was  to  be,  whether  of  words  or 
blows,  and  the  uncertainty  as  to  the  sympathies  of  the 
men  for  one  side  or  the  other,  sat  uneasily  on  the  faces 
of  all,  but  especially  on  those  of  Ilattie  and  her  brother. 

The  breakfast  was  despatched  in  silence,  and  scarce 
swallowed  when  the  old  man  came  to  his  feet  with  a  quick 
movement  that  meant  work. 

"Now,  then,  boys,  for  the  march!  Whoever's  goin' 
through  the  Gap  t'wards  Nashville,  pick  up  yer  traps. 
'Twon't  pay  to  wait  yere  till  some  of  these  Yankees  sweep 
down  on  us  and  send  us  up  North  to  spend  the  summer 
in  prison  barracks.  You,  George  Blunt,  pick  up  your 
traps  and  take  yer  sister  back  to  Jonesville,  and  mind  ye 
don't  say  one  word  more'n  ye  kin  help  'bout  this  scrape, 
d'ye  hear  ?" 

Once  more  the  fingers  of  Gord.  Hopper  played  uneasily 
with  the  hammer  of  his  rifle  as  he  stepped  up  to  the  centre 
of  the  circle. 

"  Look'ee  here,  old  man,"  he  said,  fixing  his  eye  steadily 
in  that  of  Gap's,  "  I  told  ye  last  night  enough  to  keep  ye 
from  meddling  with  my  business.  D'ye  think  I'm  a  child 
that  ye  should  play  with  me  ?  I  tell  ye  again  what  I  told 
ye  then.  I'm  goin'  on  to  Nashville,  and  I'm  goin'  to  take 
that  gal  and  her  brother  with  me." 

Ending  this  sentence  he  gave  a  spring  backward, 
bringing  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder  as  he  did  so,  and  then 
finished  with — 

"  And  now  let  me  see  the  man  that's  going  to  prevent 
me." 

"  Here  he  is !"  shouted  a  stalwart  figure,  breaking  with 
a  bound  through  the  bush  by  his  side,  and  followed  by 
a  dozen  others,  sending  with  one  blow  of  his  fist  Gord. 
Hopper  one  way  and  his  rifle  another,  "  Here's  the  man 
that  gives  you  the  lie,  you  villain  !     Here's  the  man  that'3 


110  "old  GAP,"  OF  TENNESSEE. 

going  to  prevent  you,  and  mark  it  on  your  carcass,  too. 
And  you,  too,  what  kind  of  men  are  ye  to  let  such  scum 
as  that  abuse  an  old  man  and  ill  treat  a  woman  in  your 
presence  ?     D'ye  call  yourselves  men,  eh  ?" 

"  Hold  hard,  Bim.  Purdy,  don't  abuse  the  boys  for  what 
they  couldn't  help.  The  boys  hadn't  a  chance  of  'spress- 
ing  a  'pinion  on  the  matter  when  you  brushed  in." 

"  Oh,  I  know  all  about  it.  This  ain't  the  first  time 
I've  been  about  ye.  I  tracked  'em  down  here  last  night, 
and  found  you  too  many  for  us,  and  I  sent  over  to  Taze- 
well for  these  boys,  I  was  around  you  last  night  when 
you  sat  up  with  your  rifle  cocked  looking  for  the  steps 
in  the  bush.  And  now  what's  all  this  party  about?  I 
wouldn't  ask,  Gap,  but  that  I  see  you  among  them,  and 
as  I  have  never  yet  heard  that  you  have  been  engaged  in 
anything  dishonest,  I  can't  believe  that  the  men  are  rebels 
and  traitors." 

"  Hold  hard,  'Bimelech  Purdy,  both  sides  can  say  that. 
Maybe  they  might  call  you  a  rebel  and  a  traitor  for 
fightin'  on  the  side  of  the  North." 

"  I'm  not  fightin'  on  the  side  of  the  North.  I'm  fight- 
ing for  both  sides.  I'm  fighting  to  save  the  South  from 
the  consequences  of  her  own  doing." 

This  seemed  a  new  idea  to  the  old  man,  and  he  stopped 
to  consider  it,  Purdy  saw  his  advantage  and  followed 
it  up, 

"  Have  you  ever  thought.  Gap,  of  what  a  terrible  thing 
it  would  be  should  the  South  succeed  in  her  evil  doings, 
and  if  all  the  old  things  that  you've  been  taught  to  love 
should  be  swept  away  ?  New  laws,  new  customs,  a  new 
flag,  and  new  terms  for  old  things.  Do  you  ever  think 
of  this,  and  think  that  you're  an  old  man,  with  not  long 
to  live." 

"  Sartainly,  sartainly  !  We  must  expect  changes.  Life 
is  nothin'  but  changes,  'Bimelech  !" 

"  Aye ;  but  why  not  changes  for  the  better  rather  than 


"OLD  GAP,"  OF  TENNESSEE.  Ill 

tbe  worse  ?  You  wouldn't  change  your  rifle  for  one  that 
couldn't  do  the  same  work,  would  ye,  Gap  ?" 

"  Sartainly  not !" 

"And  then,  again,  did  ye  never  think  ye  might  bo 
beaten.  Think  of  the  disgrace  of  that— a  whipped  trai- 
tor, a  fugitive,  fearful  to  return  to  his  home,  to  die  on 
the  spot  where  he  was  born  and  nurtured !" 

The  old  man  leaned  his  chin  heavily  on  the  muzzle  of 
his  rifle  and  seemed  for  a  moment  lost  in  thought.  At 
last  he  looked  up  and  about  the  circle,  and  from  them  to 
the  spot  where  stood  Purdy,  surrounded  by  his  friends 
and  Ilattie  Blunt  clinging  to  his  side,  the  old  man 
seemed  puzzled  and  waiting  for  some  one  to  speak.  There 
was  a  dead  silence  which  he  broke  with — 

"  D'ye  hear  that,  boys  ?  I  believe  its  Gospel  truth ;  I 
reckon  there's  been  some  mistake  in  this  consarn.  I 
didn't  mind  for  goin'  in  for  a  bit  of  a  scrimmage ;  but  if 
it's  comin'  to  that  there — goin'  to  tear  up  all  the  old  fixina 
— then  all  I've  got  to  say  is,  Gap  isn't  one  of  'em." 

A  hearty  shout  went  "up  from  both  parties,  and  Purdy 
sprang  forward  to  grasp  the  hand  of  the  old  man  and 
shake  it  heartily. 

"  I  was  sure,"  he  said,  "  that  old  Cumberland  Gap  Avould 
never  prove  false  to  friend  or  country.  And  now,  then, 
boys,  who  says  for  Jonesville  instead  of  Nashville? 
There'll  soon  be  work  enough  for  ye  to  do  there." 

Another  shout  from  the  whole  party,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  men  who,  but  an  hour  before,  were  ready  to 
be  led  to  overt  treason,  were  on  their  march  northward. 

"  What's  come  of  Gord.  Hopper  ?"  asked  one  of  the 
men,  picking  up  his  rifle  that  had  been  thrown  down  by 
Purdy's  blow,  and  looking  inquiringly  around. 

•'  Oh,  no  matter  !"  was  the  response ;  "  let  him  go  an' 
jine  the  Confederate  army — that'll  be  punishment  enougli 
for  him.     March  on,  boys !     Three  cheers  for  Old  Gap  I" 


112  GOING  THE  WHOLE  HOG. 


GOING  THE  WHOLE  HOG 


Early  one  morning  in  1862,  wliile  at  Farmington.  near 
Corinth,  Mississippi,  as  Brigadier  (now  Major)  General 
Palmer  was  riding  along  his  lines  to  inspect  some  breast- 
works that  had  been  thrown  up  during  the  previous 
night,  he  came  suddenly  upon  some  of  the  boys  of  Co,  I, 
27th  Illinois  Volunteers,  who  had  just  shot  a  two-hundred, 
pound  hog,  and  were  engaged  in  the  interesting  process 
of  skinning  it.  The  soldiers  were  startled  ;  their  chief 
looked  astonished  and  sorrowful. 

"  Ah !  a  body — a  corpse.  Some  poor  fellow  gone  to 
his  last  home.  Well,  he  must  be  buried  with  military 
honors.     Sergeant,  call  the  officer  of  the  guard." 

The  officer  was  speedily  at  hand,  and  received  orders 
to  have  a  grave  dug  and  the  body  buried  forthwith.  The 
grave  was  soon  prepared,  and  then  the  company  were 
mustered.  Pall-bearers  placed  the  body  of  the  dead 
upon  a  stretcher.  The  order  was  given  to  march,  and,  with 
reversed  arms  and  funeral  tread,  the  solemn  procession 
of  sixty  men  followed  the  body  to  the  grave.  Not  a 
word  passed  nor  a  muscle  of  the  face  stirred  while  the 
last  rites  of  sepulture  were  being  performed.  The  cere- 
mony over,  the  general  and  his  stafi"  waved  their  adieux, 
and  were  soon  lost  in  the  distance. 

The  philosophy  of  the  soldier  is  usually  equal  to  the 
emergency.  He  has  read  and  pondered.  Ete  now  pain- 
fully realizes  that  flesh  is  as  grass,  and  that  life  is  but  a 
shadow.  But  he  thinks  of  the  rast^rrec^^'oti,  and  his  gloom 
passes  away.  So  with  the  philosophic  boys  of  Company 
I,  27th  Illinois.  Ere  their  general  was  fairly  seated  ut 
liis  own  breakfast-table,  there  was  a  raising  of  the  dead, 
and  savory  pork-steaks  were  frying  in  many  a  camp-paa 


didn't  like  it.  113 


DIDN'T  LTEE  IT. 


During  the  month  of  March,  1863,  an  extensive  forag- 
ing and  reconnoitring  expedition,  comprising  several 
hundred  men  and  teams  of  Major-General  Reynolds's  di- 
vision, went  out  from  Murfreesborough  towards  Lebanon, 
through  a  fertile  and  well-stocked  country,  the  people  of 
which  were  mainly  intensely  rebel.  The  expedition  wa3 
very  successful,  bringing  back  corn,  fodder,  poultry,  pigs, 
and  cattle  innumerable — also  some  four  hundred  head  of 
horses  and  mules,  to  aid  in  mounting  Colonel  Wilder's 
infantry  brigade. 

While  out  upon  this  expedition,  the  train  came  to  the 
premises  of  an  active,  wealthy,  bitter  old  rebel — :one  who 
had  made  himself  very  busy  in  procuring  volunteers  for 
the  rebel  army,  and  particularly  obnoxious  to  his  Union 
neighbors  by  assisting  the  rebel  agents  to  hunt  down 
conscripts.  He  looked  rather  astonished  when  our  ad- 
vance cavalry  was  followed  off  by  his  horses.  The  quar- 
termaster came  next,  with  his  mules  and  the  contents  of 
his  corn -cribs.  When  the  commissary  marched  by  in 
charge  of  the  gentleman's  extra-fat  cattle,  "secesh,"  in 
great  alarm,  wanted  to  know  if  we  were  not  going  to  pay 
for  his  "goods." 

"  We  are  not  paying  money  at  present  to  any  one," 
blandly  replied  the  quartermaster. 

"  Well,  but  you  will  give  me  a  receipt  for  them  ?" 

"  Certainly,  sir ;  here  are  your  vouchers  already  made 
out." 

"  Secesh"  read  them,  apparently  well  pleased,  until  he 
came  to  the  inexorable  words,  "  to  be  paid  at  the  close  of 
the  war,  upon  proof  of  loyalty." 

"  Well,  if  that  is  the  case,"  said  he,  "  they  may  go  to 
the  d — 1 ;"  and,  turning  to  a  couple  of  his  darkies,  who 
were  looking  on  with  open  mouths,  he  administered  to 
8 


114  PRATING  FOR  THE  PRESIDENT. 

them  a  few  vigorous  kicks  a  posteriori,  exclaiming,  "D — n 
you,  you  go  too !" 


A  PRACTICAL  JOKE. 

The  soldier  in  his  best  estate  is  full  of  fun.  In  a  tent 
in  the  camp  of  the  11th  Indiana  Battery,  near  Murfrees- 
borough,  in  the  absence  of  chairs,  a  rude  bench  had  been 
constructed  by  placing  a  board  upon  cross-legs.  The 
board  was  soon  found  too  limber  to  bear  up  the  crowd 
which  daily  enjoyed  its  comforts,  and  was,  in  conse- 
quence, strengthened  by  laying  another  thick  plank  over 
it.  A  roguish  sergeant  one  day  removed  this  top  plank, 
bored  a  number  of  auger-holes  nearly  through  the  bot- 
tom board,  filled  them  with  powder,  laid  a  train  from  one 
to  another,  prepared  his  fuse,  and  then  replaced  the  plank. 
Shortly  after,  the  bench,  as  usual,  was  filled  with  his  un- 
suspecting comrades,  when  he  reached  down  and  touched 
the  fuse  with  his  lighted  cigar.  Of  course,  there  was  an 
explosion  just  about  that  time,  which  hoisted  the  party  as 
would  a  petard,  upsetting  the  stove  and  tea-furniture, 
knocking  down  the  tent,  and  enveloping  all  in  smoke  and 
dire  confusion. 


PRAYING  rOR  THE  PRESIDENT. 

In  the  summer  of  1861,  a  private  in  one  of  the  regi- 
ments of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  was  court-martialled 
for  sleeping  on  his  post  out  near  Chain  Bridge  on  the 
Upper  Potomac.  He  was  convicted ;  his  sentence  was 
death ;  the  finding  was  approved  of  by  the  General,  and 
the  day  fixed  for  his  execution.  He  was  a  youth  of  more 
than  ordinary  intelligence ;  he  did  not  beg  for  pardon, 
but  was  willing  to  meet  his  fate. 

The  time  drew  near ;  the  stern  necessity  of  war  required 


PRAYING  FOR  THE  PRESIDENT.  115 

that  an  example  should  be  made  of  some  one ;  his  -was 
aa  aggravated  case.  But  the  case  reached  the  ears  of  the 
President ;  he  resolved  to  save  him ;  he  signed  a  pardon 
and  sent  it  out ;  the  day  came. 

"  Suppose,"  thought  the  President,  "  my  pardon  has  not 
reached  him." 

The  telegraph  was  called  into  requisition ;  an  answer 
did  not  come  promptly. 

"Bring  up  my  carriage,"  he  ordered. 

It  came,  and  soon  the  important  state  papers  were 
dropped,  and  through  the  hot,  broiling  sun  and  dusty 
roads  he  rode  to  the  camp,  about  ten  miles,  and  saw  that 
the  soldier  was  saved. 

He  doubtless  forgot  the  incident,  but  the  soldier  did 
not.  When  the  Third  Vermont  charged  upon  the  rifle- 
pits  before  Yorktown  the  following  year  the  enemy 
poured  a  volley  upon  them.  The  first  man  who  fell  with 
six  bullets  in  his  body,  was  "VVm.  Scott,  of  company  K. 
Ilis  comrades  caught  him  up,  and  as  his  life  blood  ebbed 
away,  he  raised  to  heaven,  amid  the  din  of  Avar,  the  cries 
of  the  dying,  and  the  shouts  of  the  enemy,  a  prayer  for 
the  President,  and  as  he  died  he  remarked  to  his  comrade 
that  he  had  shown  he  was  no  coward,  and  not  afraid  to  die. 

He  was  interred  in  the  presence  of  his  regiment,  in  a 
little  grove  about  two  miles  to  the  rear  of  the  rebel  fort, 
in  the  centre  of  a  group  of  holly  and  vines ;  a  few  cherry- 
trees,  in  full  bloom,  are  scattered  around  the  edge.  In 
digging  his  grave,  a  skull  and  bones  were  found,  and 
metal  buttons,  showing  that  the  identical  spot  had  been 
used  in  the  Eevolutionary  war  for  our  fathers  who  fell  in 
the  same  cause.  The  chaplain  narrated  the  circumstance 
to  the  boys  who  stood  around  with  uncovered  heads. 
He  prayed  for  the  President,  and  paid  the  most  glowing 
tribute  to  his  noble  heart  that  we  have  ever  heard.  The 
tears  started  to  their  eyes  as  the  clods  of  earth  were  thrown 
upon  him  in  his  narrow  grave,  where  he  lay  shrouded  in 
his  coat  and  blanket. 


116  THE  QUAKERS  ON  THE  WAR-PATH. 

ITie  men  separated  ;  in  a  few  minutes  all  were  engaged 
in  something  around  the  camp,  as  though  nothing  had 
happened  unusual ;  but  that  scene  will  live  upon  their 
memories  while  life  lasts ;  the  calm  look  of  Scott's  face, 
the  seeming  look  of  satisfaction  he  felt  still  lingered ;  and 
could  the  President  have  seen  him,  he  would  have  felt 
that  his  act  of  mercy  had  been  wisely  bestowed. 


THE  QUAKEES  ON  THE  WAK-PATH.     " 

This  rebellion  has  disturbed  the  deepest  fountains  of 
the  life  of  our  people — both  the  good  and  the  bad.  It 
has  agitated  the  serenest  waters.  Even  the  members  of 
the  Society  of  Friends  have  been  among  the  bravest  and 
best  contributors  to  the  war.  In  the  field  their  gallant 
sons  have  done  all  the  duties  of  citizens  as  nobly  as  their 
fathers  have  performed  them  in  the  calmer  scenes  of 
domestic  and  civil  life. 

At  one  of  the  regular  meetings  of  the  Society  of  Friends 
(Orthodox),  a  committee  was  proposed  to  be  raised  to 
inquire  into  and  attend  to  the  cases  of  young  men,  sons 
of  members,  who  it  was  supposed  had,  in  clear  violation 
of  all  the  standard  rules  of  the  Society,  enlisted  for  mili- 
tary service  in  this  dreadful  war.  It  was  notorious  that 
a  large  number  of  this  class  had  actually  shouldered  the 
musket  and  marched  with  their  regiments ;  and  it  was 
strongly  suspected  that  many  of  these  boys  had  actually 
received  the  warmest  blessings  of  their  demure  but  none 
the  less  heroic  mothers,  and  the  inspiring  encouragement 
of  gentle  sisters,  on  their  departure. 

But,  as  the  case  had  been  brought  up  before  the  meet- 
ing by  some  of  the  strictest  Friends,  it  became  necessary 
to  give  it  the  most  serious  consideration ;  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  committee  were  duly  proposed. 

The  first  rose  with  great  dignity,  and,  with  that  inimi- 
table serenity  which  always  characterizes  the  proceedings 


THE  scout's  story.  117 

of  the  Orthodox  Quakers,  requested  to  be  excused,  on  the 
ground  that  he  could  not  conscientiously  serve  in  that 
capacity,  since,  very  much  to  his  pain  and  sorrow,  among 
the  young  members  who  had  enlisted  for  the  war  he  had 
a  son. 

Another  member  desired  to  be  excused  on  the  ground 
that,  without  his  knowledge,  two  of  his  sons  had  not  only 
joined  the  army,  but  were  already  in  the  field. 

Finally,  the  third  member  rose,  and  stood  some  momenta 
without  speaking.  He  was  a  venerable  man  :  he  looked 
like  the  patriarch  of  the  solemn  assembly.  His  hair  was 
white,  but  his  cheek  looked  "  like  a  rose  in  the  snow." 

"Friends,  we  in  our  weakness  cannot  foresee  the  pur- 
poses of  the  great  Father  of  all  things ;  nor  should  we 
attempt  to  scrutinize  his  almighty  designs.  It  becomes 
my  duty  to  inform  you  all  that  my  youngest  son,  iivo  of 
my  grandsons,  and  several  of  my  nephews,  have  also  taken, 
up  arms  in  the  defence  of  our  beloved  country ;  and  I  am 
very  much  afraid  that  I  could  not  serve  on  the  committee 
with  any  good  to  our  cause." 

A  reverent  silence  brooded  over  the  assembly,  and  for 
a  protracted  interval  the  silence  remained  unbroken.  At 
last  the  "mover  of  the  motion"  rose,  and  proposed  that 
"  the  whole  matter  should  be  temporarily  postponed." 


THE  SCOUT'S  STOST. 

It  was  in  the  bleak  mountain  country  of  East  Ten- 
nessee ;  the  evening  was  growing  late,  and  the  camp-fire 
was  smouldering  lower  and  lower,  but  we  still  sat  round 
it,  for  the  spell  of  the  scout's  marvellous  gift  of  story-telling 
we  were  none  of  us  willing  to  dissolve.  Captain  Charlie 
Leighton  had  been  a  lieutenant  in  a  Michigan  Battery  at 
the  commencement  of  the  war,  but  a  natural  love  of  ex- 
citement and  restlessness  of  soul  had  early  prompted  him 
to  seek  employment  as  a  scout,  in  which  he  soon  rose  to 


118  THE  scout's  story. 

unusual  eminence.  He  is  a  man  of  much  refinement, 
well  educated,  and  of  a  "quick  inventive  brain,"  The 
tale  I  am  about  to  relate  is  my  best  recollection  of  it  as 
it  fell  from  his  lips,  and  if  there  is  aught  of  elegance  in 
its  diction,  as  here  presented,  it  is  all  his  own.  He  had 
been  delighting  us  with  incidents  of  the  war,  most  of 
which  were  derived  from  his  own  experience,  when  I 
expressed  a  desire  to  know  something  of  his  first  attempt 
at  scouting.  He  willingly  assented,  took  a  long  pull  at 
my  brandy  flask,  and  commenced  his  yarn  ;  and  I  thought 
that  I  had  never  seen  a  handsomer  man  than  Charlie 
Leighton  the  scout,  as  he  carelessly  lounged  there,  with 
the  ruddy  gleams  of  the  dying  camp-fire  occasionally  flick- 
ering over  his  strongly  marked  intelligent  face,  and  his 
curling  black  hair  waving  fitfully  in  the  night  wind,  which 
now  came  down  from  the  mountain  fresher  and  chillier. 

It  happened  in  Western  Virginia,  said  he.  I  had  been 
personally  acquainted  with  our  commander,  General  R., 
before  the  war  commenced,  and  having  intimated,  a  short 
time  previous  to  the  date  of  my  story,  that  I  desired  to 
try  my  luck  in  the  scouting  service — of  which  a  vast  deal 
was  required  to  counteract  the  guerrillas  with  which  the 
Blue  Ridge  fairly  teemed  at  that  time — one  night,  late 
in  the  fall  of  the  year,  I  was  delighted  to  receive  orders 
to  report  at  his  head-quarters.  The  general  was  a  man 
of  few  words,  and  my  instructions  were  brief. 

•"  Listen,"  said  he.  "  My  only  reliable  scout  (Mackworth) 
was  killed  last  night  at  the  lower  ford ;  and  General  F. 
(the  rebel  commander)  has  his  head-quarters  at  the  Sed- 
ley  Mansion  on  the  Romney  road." 

"  Very  well,"  said  I,  beginning  to.  feel  a  little  queer. 

"  I  want  you  to  go  to  the  Sedley  Mansion,"  was  the 
cool  rejoinder. 

"  To  go  there !  Why,  it's  in  the  heart  of  the  enemy's 
position !"  was  my  amazed  ejaculation. 

"Just  the  reason  I  want  it  done,"  resumed  the  general. 
"  Listen :  I  attack  to-morrow  at  day-break.     F.  knows  it, 


THE  scout's  STORT.  119 

or  Kalf  suspects  it,  and  will  mass  either  on  the  centre  or 
the  left  wing.  I  must  know  which.  The  task  is  thick 
with  danger — regular  life  and  death.  Two  miles  from  here, 
midway  to  the  enemy's  outposts,  and  six  paces  beyond  the 
second  mile-stone.,  are  two  rockets  propped  on  the  inside 
of  a  hollow  stump.  Mackworth  placed  them  there  yes- 
terday. You  are  to  slip  to  F.'s  quarters  to-night,  learn 
what  I  want,  and  hurry  back  to  the  hollow  stump.  If 
he  masses  on  the  centre,  let  off  one  rocket;  if  on  the  left, 
let  off  both.  This  duty,  I  repeat,  abounds  with  danger. 
You  must  start  immediately,  and  alone.     Will  you  go?" 

Everything  considered,  t  think  I  voted  in  the  affirm- 
ative pretty  readily,  but  it  required  a  slight  struggle- 
Nevertheless,  consent  I  did,  and  immediately  left  the  tent 
to  make  ready. 

It  was  near  ten  o'clock  when,  having  received  a  few 
additional  words  of  advice  from  the  chief,  I  set  forth  on 
my  perilous  ride.  The  country  was  quite  familiar  to  me, 
so  I  had  little  fear  of  losing  my  way,  which  was  no  in- 
considerable advantage,  I  can  tell  you.  Riding  slowly 
at  first,  as  soon  as  I  had  passed  our  last  outpost,  I  put 
spurs  to  mv  horse  (a  glorious  gray  thorough-bred  which 
the  general  had  lent  me  for  the  occasion)  and  fled  down 
the  mountain  at  a  breakneck  pace.  It  was  a  cool,  misty, 
uncertain  night — almost  frosty,  and  the  country  was  wild 
and  desolate.  Mountains  and  ravines  were  the  ruling 
features,  with  now  and  then  that  diversification  of  the 
broomy,  irregular  plateau,  with  which  our  mountain 
scenery  is  occasionally  softened.  I  continued  my  rapid 
pace  with  but  little  caution  until  I  arrived  at  the  further 
extremity  of  one  of  these  plateaux.  Here  I  brought  up 
sharply  beside  a  block  of  granite,  which  I  recognized  as 
the  second  mile-stone.  Dismounting,  I  proceeded  to  the 
hollow  stump  which  the  general  had  intimated,  and  finding 
the  rockets  there,  examined  them  well  to  make  sure  of  their 
efficiency — remounted,  and  was  away  again.  But  now  I 
exercised  much  more  caution  in  mj  movements.     I  rod* 


120  THE  scout's  story. 

more  slowly,  kept  my  horse  on  the  turf  at  the  edge  of 
the  road,  in  order  to  deaden  the  hoof-beats,  and  also  short- 
ened the  chain  of  my  sabre,  binding  the  scabbard  with 
my  knee  to  prevent  its  jingling.  Still  I  was  not  satisfied, 
but  tore  my  handkerchief  in  two,  and  made  fast  to  either 
heel  the  rowel  of  my  spurs,  which  otherwise  had  a  little 
tinkle  of  their  own.  Then  I  kept  wide  awake,  with  my 
eyes  everywhere  at  once,  in  the  hope  of  catching  a  glimpse 
of  some  clew  or  landmark — the  glimmer  of  a  camp-fire— a 
tent-top  in  the  moonlight,  which  now  began  to  shine  faintly 
— or  to  hear  the  snort  of  a  steed,  the  signal  of  a  picket — • 
anything  to  guide  me  or  to  give  warning  of  the  lurking 
foe.  But  no :  if  there  had  been  any  camp-fires  they  were 
dead ;  if  there  had  been  any  tents  they  were  struck.  Not 
a  sign — not  a  sound.     Everything  was  quiet  as  the  tomb. 

The  great  mountains  rose  around  me  in  their  mantles 
of  pine  and  hoods  of  mist,  cheerless  and  repelling,  as  if 
their  solitude  had  never  been  broken.  The  moon  wasr 
driving  through  a  weird  and  ragged  sky,  with  something 
desolate  and  solemn  in  her  haggard  face  that  seemed  like 
an  omen  of  ill.  And  in  spite  of  my  efforts  to  be  cheerful, 
I  felt  the  iron  loneliness  and  sense  of  danger  creep  through 
my  flesh  and  touch  the  bones. 

None  but  those  who  have  actually  experienced  it  can 
properly  conceive  of  the  apprehensions  which  throng  the 
breast  of  him,  howsoever  brave,  who  knows  himself  to  be 
alone  in  the  midst  of  enemies  who  are  invisible.  The  lion 
hunter  of  Abyssinia  is  encompassed  with  peril  Avhen  he 
makes  a  pillow  of  his  gun  in  the  desert ;  and  our  own 
pioneer  slumbers  but  lightly  in  his  new  cabin  when  he 
knows  that  the  savage,  whose  monomania  is  vengeance, 
is  prowling  the  forest  that  skirts  his  clearing.  But  the 
lion  is  not  always  hungry ;  and  even  the  Indian  may  be 
conciliated.  The  hunter  confronts  his  terrible  antagonist 
with  something  deadlier  than  ferocity.  The  hand  that 
levels  and  the  eye  that  directs  the  rifled  tube  are  nerved 
and  fired  by  "  the  mind,  the  sj  irit,  the  Promethean  spark," 


THE  SCOUTS  STORY.  12! 

wliicli,  in  this  case,  is  indeed  a  "  tower  of  strength."  And 
the  settler,  with  promises  and  alcohol,  may  have  won  the 
savage  to  himself.  But  to  the  solitary  scout,  at  midnight, 
every  turn  of  the  road  may  conceal  a  linger  on  a  hair 
trigger ;  every  stump  or  bush  may  hold  a  foe  in  waiting. 
If  he  rides  through  a  forest,  it  is  only  in  the  deepest 
shadow  that  he  dares  ride  upright ;  and  should  he  cross 
an  open  glade,  where  the  starlight  or  moonshine  drops 
freely,  he  crouches  low  on  the  saddle  and  hurries  across, 
for  every  second  he  feels  he  may  be  a  target.  His  senses 
are  painfully  alive,  his  faculties  strained  to  their  utmost 
tension. 

By  way  of  a  little  episode,  I  knew  a  very  successful 
scout,  who  met  his  death,  however,  on  the  Peninsula,  who 
would  always  require  a  long  sleep  immediately  after  an 
expedition  of  peril,  if  it  had  lasted  but  a  few  hours,  and 
had  apparently  called  forth  no  more  muscular  exertion 
than  was  necessary  to  sit  the  saddle.  But,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  he  would  complain  of  overpowering  fatigue, 
and  immediately  drop  into  the  most  profound  slumber. 
And  I  have  been  informed  that  this  is  very  frequently 
the  case.  I  can  only  attribute  it  to  the  fact  that,  owing 
to  the  extreme  and  almost  abnormal  vivacit}' — I  think 
of  no  better  word — of  the  faculties  and  senses,  a  man  on 
these  momentous  occasions  lives  twice  or  tlirice  as  fast  as 
ordinarily ;  and  the  usual  nerve-play  and  wakefulness  of 
a  day  and  night  may  thus  be  concentrated  in  the  brief 
period  of  a  few  hours. 

But  to  resuine :  I  felt  to  the  full  this  apprehension,  this 
anxiety,  this  exhaustion,  but  the  knowledge  of  my  posi- 
tion and  the  issues  at  stake  kept  my  blood  flowing.  T 
had  come  to  the  termination  of  the  last  plateau  or  plnin, 
when  the  road  led  me  down  the  side  of  a  ravine,  with  a^ 
prospect  ahead  of  nothing  but  darkness.  Here,  too,  I  was 
compelled  to  make  more  noise,  as  there  was  no  sod  for 
my  horse  to  tread  on,  and  the  road  was  flinty  and  rough 
in  the  extreme.     But  I  kept  on  as  cautiously  as  possible. 


122  THE  scout's  story. 

when  suddenly,  just  at  the  bottom  of  the  ravine,  where 
the  road  began  to  ascend  the  opposite  declivity,  I  came 
to  a  dead  halt,  confronted  by  a  group  of  several  horsemen, 
so  suddenly  that  they  seemed  to  have  sprung  from  the 
earth  like  phantoms. 

"Why  do  you  return  so  slowly?"  said  one  of  them, 
impatiently.  "  What  have  you  seen  ?  Did  you  meet 
Colonel  Craig?" 

For  a  moment — a  brief  one — I  gave  myself  up  for  lost ; 
but,  with  the  rapid  reflection  and  keen  invention  which 
a  desperate  strait  will  sometimes  superinduce,  I  grasped 
the  language  of  the  speaker,  and  formed  my  plan  accord- 
ingly. 

"  Why  do  you  return  so  slowly  ?"  I  had  been  sent 
somewhere,  then. 

"  What  have  you  seen  ?"  I  had  been  sent  as  a  spy, 
then. 

"  Did  you  meet  Colonel  Craig  ?" 

Oho  !  I  thought,  /  will  be  Colonel  Craig.  No,  I  won't ; 
I  will  be  Colonel  Craig's  orderly.  So  I  spoke  out 
boldly— 

"Colonel  Craig  met  your  messenger,  who  had  seen 
nothing,  and  advised  him  to  scout  down  the  edge  of  the 
creek  i'or  half  a  mile.  But  he  dispatched  me,  his  orderly, 
to  say  that  the  enemy  appear  to  be  retreating  in  heavy 
masses.  I  am  also  to  convey  this  intelligence  to  Gene- 
ral F." 

The  troopers  had  started  at  the  tones  of  a  strange 
voice,  but  seemed  to  listen  with  interest  and  without  sus- 
picion. 

"  Did  the  colonel  think  the  movement  a  real  retreat,  or 
•only  a  feint  ?"  asked  the  leader. 

"  He  was  uncertain,"  I  replied,  beginning  to  feel  secure 
and  roguish  at  the  same  time ;  "  but  he  bade  me  to  say  that 
he  would  ascertain ;  and  in  an  hour  or  two,  if  you  should 
Bee  one  rocket  up  to  the  north  there,  you  might  conclude 
that  the  Yankees  were  retreating ;  if  you  should  see  two^ 


THE  bcotjt's  stort.  123 

tlien  you  miglit  guess  that  they  were  not  retreating,  but 
stationary,  with  likelihood  of  remaining  inert  for  another 
day." 

"  Good !"  cried  the  rebel.  "  Do  you  know  the  way  to 
the  general's  quarters  ?" 

"  I  think  I  can  find  it,"  said  I ;  "  although  I  am  not 
familiar  with  this  side  of  the  mountain." 

"  It's  a  mile  this  side  of  the  Sedley  Mansion,"  said  the 
trooper.  "  You  Avill  find  some  pickets  at  the  head  of  the 
road.  You  must  there  leave  your  horse,  and  climb  the 
steep,  when  you  will  see  a  farm-house,  and  fifteen  minutes' 
walk  toward  it  will  bring  you  to  the  general's  tent.  I 
Avill  go  with  you  to  the  top  of  the  road."  And  setting 
off  at  a  gallop,  the  speaker  left  me  to  follow,  which  I 
hesitated  not  to  do.  Now,  owing  to  their  mistake,  the 
countersign  had  not  been  thought  of;  but  the  next  picket 
Would  not  be  likely  to  swallow  the  same  dose  of  silence, 
and  it  was  a  lucky  thing  that  the  trooper  led  the  way, 
for  he  would  reach  them  first,  and  I  woukl  have  a  chance 
to  catch  the  password  from  his  lips.  But  he  passed  the 
picket  so  quickly,  and  dropped  the  precious  syllables  so 
indistinctly,  that  I  only  caught  the  first  of  them — "  I'allif^ 
■ — while  the  remainder  might  as  well  have  been  Greek. 
Tally,  tally,  tally  what?  Good  God !  thought  I,  what  can 
it  be?  Tally,  tally — here  I  am  almost  up  to  the  pickets 
—what  can  it  be  ?  Tallyho  ?  No,  that's  English.  Tal- 
leyrand? No,  that's  French.  God  help  me!  Tally, 
tally — 

"  Tallahassee  !"  I  yelled  with  the  inspiration  of  de- 
spair, as  I  dashed  through  the  picket,  and  their  levelled 
carbines  sank  toothless  before  that  wonderful  spell — the 
Countersign. 

Blessing  my  stars,  and  without  further  mishap,  I 
reached  the  place  indicated  by  the  trooper,  which  was 
high  up  on  the  side  of  the  mountain — so  high  that  clouds 
were  forming  in  the  deep  valley  below.  Making  my 
bridle  fast,  I  clambered  with  some  difficulty  the  still 


124  THE  scout's  story. 

ascending  slope  on  my  left.  Extraordinary  caution  waa 
required.  I  almost  crept  towards  the  farm-house,  and 
soon  perceived  the  tent  of  the  rebel  chief.  A  solitary 
guard  Avas  pacing  between  it  and  me — probably  a  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  tent.  Perceiving  that  boldness  was 
my  only  plan,  I  sauntered  up  to  him  with  as  free-and- 
easy  an  air  as  I  could  muster. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?" 

"  A  friend." 

"  Advance  and  give  the  countersign." 

I  advanced  as  near  as  was  safe,  and  whispered  "  Talla- 
hassee," with  some  fears  as  to  the  result. 

"  It's  a  d — d  lie  I"  said  the  sentry,  bringing  his  piece  to 
the  shoulder  in  the  twinkle  of  an  eye.  "  That  answers 
the  pickets,,  but  not  me."  Click,  click,  went  the  rising 
hammer  of  the  musket. 

I  am  a  dead  man,  thought  I  to  myself;  I  am  a  dead 
man  unless  the  cap  fails.  Wonderful,  marvellous  to  re- 
late, the  cap  did  fail.  The  hammer  dropped  with  a  dull, 
harmless  thug  on  the  nipple.  With  the  rapidity  of  thought 
and  the  stealth  of  a  panther  I  glided  forward  and  clutched 
his  windpipe,  forcing  him  to  his  knees,  while  the  gun 
slipped  to  the  ground.  There  was  a  fierce  but  silent 
struggle.  The  fellow  could  not  speak,  for  my  hand  on 
his  throat ;  but  he  was  a  powerful  man,  with  a  bowie- 
knife  in  his  belt,  if  he  could  only  get  at  it.  But  I  got  it 
first,  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  drove  it  in  his  mid- 
rift"  to  the  hilt ;  and  just  at  that  instant  his  grinders  closed 
on  my  arm  and  bit  to  the  bone.  Eestraining  a  cry  with 
the  utmost  difficulty,  I  got  in  another  blow,  this  time  home, 
and  the  jaws  of  the  rebel  flew  apart  with  a  start,  for  my 
blade  had  pressed  the  spring  of  the  casket.  Breathless 
from  the  struggle,  I  lay  still  to  collect  my  thoughts,  and 
listened  to  know  if  the  inmates  of  the  tent  had  been  dis- 
turbed. But  no ;  a  light  was  shining  through  the  canvas, 
and  I  could  hear  the  low  murmur  of  voices  from  within, 
which  I  had  before  noticed,  and  which  seemed  to  be  those 


THE  scout's  story.  125 

of  a  number  of  men  in  earnest  consultation.  I  looked 
at  the  corpse  of  the  rebel  remorsefully.  The  slouched 
hat  had  fallen  off  in  the  scuffle,  and  the  pale  face  of  the 
dead  man  was  upturned  to  the  scant  moonlight.  It  was 
a  young,  noble,  and  exceedingly  handsome  face,  and  I 
noticed  that  the  hands  and  feet  were  small  and  beautifully 
shaped ;  while  everything  about  the  body  denoted  it  to 
have  been  the  mansion  of  a  gallant,  gentle  soul. 

Was  it  a  fair  fight?  did  I  attack  him  justly?  thought 
I;  and  in  the  sudden  contrition  of  my  heart,  I  almost 
knelt  to  the  ground.  But  the  sense  of  my  great  peril 
recurred  to  me,  stifling  everything  else,  however  worthy. 
I  took  off  the  dead  man's  overcoat  and  put  it  on,  threw 
my  cap  away  and  replaced  it  with  the  fallen  sombrero, 
^nd  then  dragged  the  corpse  behind  an  outhouse  of  the 
farm  that  stood  close  by.  Eeturning,  I  picked  up  the 
gun,  and  began  to  saunter  up  and  down  in  a  very  com- 
mendable way  indeed ;  but  a  sharp  observer  might  have 
noticed  a  furtiveness  and  anxiety  in  the  frequent  glances 
I  threw  at  the  tent,  which  would  not  have  augured  well 
for  my  safety.  I  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  tent  at 
every  turn,  until  I  could  almost  distinguish  the  voices 
within;  and  presently  after  taking  a  most  minute  survey 
of  the  premises,  I  crept  up  to  the  tent,  crouched  down  to 
the  bottom  of  the  trench,  and  listened  with  all  my  might. 
I  could  also  see  under  the  canvas.  There  were  half  a 
dozen  rebel  chieftains  within,  and  a  map  was  spread  on  a 
table  in  the  centre  of  the  apartment.  At  length  the  con- 
sultation was  at  an  end,  and  the  company  rose  to  depart. 
I  ran  back  to  my  place,  and  resumed  the  watchful  saunter 
of  the  guard  with  as  indifferent  an  air  as  possible,  draw- 
ing the  hat  well  over  my  eyes. 

The  generals  came  outside  of  the  tent"  and  looked 
about  a  little  before  they  disappeared.  Two  of  them 
came  close  to  me  and  passed  almost  within  a  yard  of  the 
sentry's  body.  But  they  passed  on,  and  I  drew  a  deep 
breath  of  relief.    A  light  still  glimmered  through  the  tent, 


126  THE  scout's  story. 

but  presently  tliat,  too,  vanished,  and  all  was  still.  Bui 
occasionally  I  Avould  hear  the  voice  of  a  fellow  sentry, 
or  perhaps  the  rattle  of  a  halter  in  some  distant  manger. 
I  looked  at  my  watch.  It  was  two  o'clock — would  be 
five  before  I  could  fire  the  signal,  and  the  attack  was  to 
be  at  daybreak. 

Cautiously  as  before,  I  started  on  my  return,  reaching 
my  horse  v/ithout  accident,.  Ilere  I  abandoned  the  gun 
and  overcoat,  remounted  and  started  down  the  mountain. 
"Tallahassee"  let  me  through  the  first  picket  again,  but 
something  was  wrong  when  I  cantered  down  the  ravine 
to  the  troopers  to  whom  I  had  been  so  confidentially  dis- 
patched by  Colonel  Craig.  Probably  the  genuine  mes- 
senger, or  perhaps  the  gallant  Colonel  himself  had  paid 
them  a  visit  during  my  absence.  At  any  rate,  I  saw  that 
something  unpleasant  was  up,  but  resolved  to  make  the 
test  of  it. 

"  Tallahassee !"  I  cried,  as  I  began  to  descend  the  ravine. 

"Halt,  or  you're  a  dead  man!"  roared  the  leading 
trooper.  "  He's  a  Yank !"  "  Cut  him  down  1"  chimed  in 
the  others. 

"  Tallahassee  !  Tallahassee !"  I  yelled.  And  committing 
my  soul  to  God,  I  plunged  down  the  gulley  with  sabre 
and  revolver  in  either  hand. 

Click — bang!  something  grazed  my  cheek  like  a  hot 
iron.  Click— bang  again!  something  whistled  by  my 
ear  with  an  ugly  intonation.  And  then  I  was  in  their 
midst,  shooting,  stabbing,  slashing,  and  swearing  like  a 
fiend.  The  rim  of  my  hat  flapped  over  my  face  from  a 
sabre  cut,  and  I  felt  blood  trickling  down  my  neck.  But 
I  burst  away  from  them,  up  the  banks  of  the  ravine,  and 
along  the  bare  plateau,  all  the  time  yelling  "  Tallahassee  1 
Tallahassee !"  without  knowing  why.  I  could  hear  the 
alarm  spread  back  over  the  mountain  by  halloos  and 
drums,  and  presently  the  clatter  of  pursuing  steeds.  But 
1  fled  onward  like  a  whirlwind,  almost  fainting  from 


IN  THE  SHENANDOAH  VALLEY.  127 

excitement  and  loss  of  blood,  until  I  reeled  off  at  the 
hollow  stump. 

Fiz,  fiz  !  one,  two !  and  m  j  heart  leaped  with  exultation 
as  the  rushing  rockets  followed  each  other  in  quick  suc- 
cession to  the  zenith,  and  burst  on  the  gloom  in  glitterino- 
showers.  Emptying  the  remaining  tubes  of  my  pistol  at 
the  nearest  pursuer,  now  but  fifty  yards  off,  I  was  in  the 
saddle  and  away  again  without  waiting  to  see  the  result 
of  my  aim.  It  was  a  ride  for  life  for  a  few  moments ;  but 
I  pressed  as  noble  a  steed  as  ever  spurned  the  footstool, 
and  as  we  neared  the  Union  lines  the  pursuit  dropped  off. 
When  I  attained  the  summit  of  the  first  ridge  of  our 
position,  and  saw  the  day  break  faintly  and  rosily  beyond 
the  pine-tops  and  along  the  crags,  the  air  fluttered  violently 
in  my  face,  the  solid  earth  quivered  beneath  my  feet,  as  a 
hundred  cannon  opened  simultaneously  above,  below,  and 
around  me.  Serried  columns  of  men  were  swinging  ir- 
resistibly down  the  mountain  toward  the  opposite  slope ; 
flying  field-pieces  were  dashing  off'  into  position ;  long 
lines  of  cavalry  were  haunting  the  gullies,  or  hovering 
like  vultures  on  the  steep ;  and  the  blare  of  bugles  rose 
above  the  roar  of  the  artillery  with  a  wild,  victorious  peal. 
The  two  rockets  had  been  answered,  and  the  veterans  of 
the  Union  were  bearing  down  upon  the  enemy's  weakened 
centre  like  an  avalanche  of  fire. 

"  So  that  is  all,"  said  the  scout,  rising  and  yawning. 
"  The  battle  had  begun  in  earnest.  And  maybe  I  didn't 
dine  with  General  E.  when  it  was  over  and  the  victory 
gained.    Let's  go  to  bed." 


IN  THE  SHENANDOAH  VALLEY. 

A  squadron  of  two  hundred  of  Stuart's  cavalry  had 
surprised  seventeen  mounted  Union  pickets,  who  were 
completely  surrounded,  and,  of  course,  ordered  to  sur- 
render. 


128  INCIDENTS  OF  A  FIGHT. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  lieutenant,  "  sucli  is  the  fate  of  war,"  aftd 
offering  his  sword,  turned  his  horse  to  his  command,  and 
gave  the  order — 

"Boys,  empty  sixteen  saddles." 

One  "flash  from  sixteen  carbines  obeyed.  Dashing  on 
the  rebel  captain,  and  seizing  him  by  the  collar,  he  dragged 
him  away,  dangling  at  his  horse's  flanks. 

"  Follow,  men !" 

They  did ;  and  riddled  though  their  clothes  were  with 
bullets,  they  all  escaped. 

After  the  first  mile  had  been  made,  the  lieutenant 
checked  up,  and  asked  his  prisoner,  the  captain,  if  he 
would  prefer  any  other  mode  of  riding. 

Of  course  he  did.  As  good  luck  would  have  it,  the 
rebel's  horse  was  loyal  to  his  master,  and  he  had  in  the 
melee  followed  him.  One  of  our  men  seized  his  bridle 
rein,  and  thus,  as  the  rebel  captain  struck  on  his  feet,  his 
own  horse  whinneyed  to  his  master's  call. 

"  Now,  captain,  you  must  feel  at  home,  I  suppose,  you 
are  mounted  again." 

It  was  a  strange  coincidence.  The  rebel  was  sent 
to  the  Old  Capitol  Prison  some  days  later,  and  among 
the  courtesies  shown  to  him  there,  he  found  the  identical 
copy  of  Xenophou's  Cyroptedia  which  he  and  his  captor 
had'  both  read,  as  class-mates,  in  Yale  College,  ten  years 
before. 


INCIDENTS  or  A  riGET. 

At  the  battle  of  Hanover  Court-House,  Ya.,  two  ser- 
geants met  in  the  woods ;  each  drew  his  knife,  and  the 
two  bodies  were  found  together,  each  with  a  knife  buried 
in  it  to  the  hilt. 

Some  men  had  a  cool  way  of  disposing  of  prisoners. 
One,  an  officer  of  the  Massachusetts  Ninth,  well  known 
in  Boston  as  a  professor  of  muscular  Christianity,  better 


A  HEROIC  SAILOR.  129 

known  as  "the  cliild  of  the  regiment,"'  -svhile  rushing 
through  the  woods  at  the  head  of  his  company,  came 
upon  a  rebel.  Seizing  the  "'  gray  back"  by  the  collar,  he 
threw  him  over  his  shoulder,  with  "Pick  him  lip,  some- 
body." 

A  little  Yankee,  marching  down  by  the  side  of  a  fence 
which  skirted  the  woods,  came  upon  a  strapping  secesh, 
who  attempted  to  seize  and  pull  him  over  the  rails,  but 
the  little  one  had  too  much  science.  A  blow  with  the 
butt  of  a  musket  levelled  secesh  to  the  ground  and  made 
him  a  prisoner.     There  were  many  marvellous  escapes. 

A  HEEOIO  SAILOE. 

"W^hen  the  record  of  the  war  comes  to  be  written,  not 
the  least  interesting  feature  of  it  will  be  the  heroic  deeds 
of  the  humble  men  who  compose  the  rank  and  file  of  the 
army  and  navy.  Instances  of  individual  heroism  and 
self-sacrifice  are  already  presenting  themselves  in  abun- 
dance, and  when  the  conflict  is  happilj'  ended,  will  furnish 
&  rich  harvest  of  materials  for  the  annalist  and  historian. 
One  of  the  most  conspicuous  of  these  in  any  chronicle  of 
the  war,  must  be  the  case  of  the  gallant  tar,  John  Davis, 
whose  courage  in  the  attack  on  Elizabeth  City,  N.  C,  was 
made  the  subject  of  special  mention  by  his  immediate 
commander  and  by  Commodore  Goldsborough,  who  thus 
united  to  make  manifest  the  bond  of  true  chivalry,  which 
binds  together  all  brave  men,  however  widely  separated 
their  station.  The  following  is  the  story  of  this  brave 
sailor : — 

"  Lieut.  J.  C.  Chapin,  commanding  United  States  steamer 
Valley  City,  oft'  Roanoke  Island,  writing  to  Commodore 
Goldsborough,  noticed  a  magnanimous  act  of  bravery  by 
John  Davis,  gunner's  mate  on  board  his  vessel,  at  the 
taking  of  Elizabeth  City.  He  says  John  Davis  was  at 
his  station  during  the  action,  in  the  magazine,  issuing 
9 


130  AD/ENTURE  OF  KJLLBAKE,  TOE  SCOUT. 

powder,  when  a  shell  from  the  enemy's  battery  penetrated 
into  the  magazine,  and  exploded  outside  of  it.  _  He  threw 
himself  over  a  barrel  of  powder,  protecting  it  with  hi.^ 
own  body  from  the  fire,  while  at  the  same  time  passing 
out  the  powder  for  the  guns. 

"  Commodore  Goldsborough,  in  transmitting  this  letter- 
to  the  Navy  Department,  says,  'It  affords  me  infinite 
pleasure  to  forward  this  communication  to  the  Navy 
Department,  to  whose  especial  consideration  I  beg  leave 
to  recommend  the  gallant  and  noble  sailor  alluded  to ;' 
and  he  adds,  in  a  postcript,  'Davis  actually  seated  himself 
on  the  barrel,  the  top  being  out,  and  in  this  position  he 
remained  until  the  flames  were  extinguished.'" 

The  Navy  Department  promptly  rewarded  him.  He 
was  a  gunner's  mate,  receiving  a  salary  of  twenty-five 
dollars  per  month  or  three  hundred  dollars  per  year.  The 
evidence  of  his  bravery  was  received  at  the  Navy  De- 
partment, and  on  the  next  day  Secretary  AVelles  appointed 
him  a  gunner,  an  office  which  carries  with  it  a  salary  of 
one  thousand  dollars  per  year,  and  is  a  life  appointment, 
the  salary  increasing  by  length  of  service  to  one  thousand 
four  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 


ADVEUTUSE  OF  KILLDAEE,  TBH  SCOTJT. 

"I  left  the  city  of  Nashville,"  says  Killdare,  "to  go  South, 
taking  with  me  a  few  goods  to  peddle.     I  passed  down 
the  Charlotte  pike,  and  travelled  two  miles  up  the  Rich- 
land  Creek,  then  crossed  over  to  the  Hardin  pike,  follow 
ing  that  road  to  Harpeth  Creek,  and  crossed  below  De 

Morse's  mill.     At   the  mill   I  met De  Morse,  who 

said  to  me,  'Killdare,  do  you  make  another  trip?'  I 
replied,  'I  do  not  know.'  De  Morse  then  said,  'If  you 
get  below  the  meeting-house,  you  are  saved,'  and  smiled. 
I  proceeded  on  my  way  until  I  came  to  a  blaoksmith-shop 
on  the  pike,  at  which  a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Marlia 


ADVENTURE  OF  KILLBARE,  THE  ECOUT.  131 

came  out  and  asked  if  I  had  heard  anything  of  a  man 
named  Sanford  being  killed.  I  told  Marlin  I  di^l  not 
know  an3'thing  about  it,  and  proceeded  on  to  South  Har- 
per to  Squire  Allison's,  which  is  seventeen  miles  from 
Nashville.  I  then  fed  my  mules,  stopped  about  one  hour, 
and  proceeded  across  South  Harper  towards  Williamsport. 
"  About  one  mile  the  other  side  of  South  Harper,  two 
rebel  scouts  came  galloping  up,  and  asked  me  what  I  had 
for  sale.  I  told  them  needles,  pins,  and  playing-cards. 
They  then  inquired, '  Have  you  any  papers  to  go  South  ?' 
I  replied  I  had,  and  showed "^them  some  recommendations, 
They  asked  me  to  get  down  from  my  carryall,  as  they 
wanted  to  talk  with  me.  This  I  did;  and  they  then 
asked — 

"  '  Have  you  any  pistols  ?' 

"  '  No,'  I  replied. 

"  Stepping  back  a  few  paces,  and  each  drawing  a  pistol, 

one  of  them  said,  'You scoundrel,  you  are  our 

prisoner ;  you  are  a  Yankee  spy,  and  you  carry  letters 
from  the  South,  and  at  the  dead  hour  of  night  you  carry 
these  letters  to  Truesdail's  office.  We  lost  a  very  valu- 
able man  on  Monday  while  attempting  to  arrest  you  at 
your  house :  his  name  was  Sanford,  and  he  was  a  great 
deal  thought  of  by  General  Van  Horn.     So  now  we've 

got  you, you,  turn  your  wagon  round  and  go  back.' 

"We  turned  and  went  to  Squire  Allison's  again,  at 
which  place  I  met  Dr.  Morton,  from  Nashville,  whom  I 
requested  to  assist  in  getting  me  released.  Dr.  Morton 
spoke  to  the  men,  who,  in  reply,  said — 

"  '  We  have  orders  to  arrest  him  as  a  spy,  for  carrying 
letters  to  Truesdail's  head-quarters.' 

"  They  then  turned  back  to  South  Harper  Creek,  and 
took  me  up  the  creek  about  one  mile,  where  we  met  about 
eight  more  of  these  scouts  and  Colonel  McNairy,  of  Nash^ 
ville,  who  was  riding  along  in  a  buggy.  The  lieutenant 
in  command  of  the  squad  wrote  a  despatch  to  Van  Dorn, 
and  gave  it  to  one  of  the  men,  by  the  name  of  Thompson, 


132  ADVENTURE  OF  KILLDARE,  THE  SCOUT. 

■\vho  had  me  in  custody,  and  we  then  proceeded  up  the 
creek  to  Spring  Ilill,  towards  the  head-quarters  of  General 
Van  Dorn. 

"About  six  miles  up  the  creek,  Thompson  learned  I 
had  some  whiskey,  which  I  gave  him,  and  of  which  he 
drank  until  he  got  pretty  well  intoxicated.  In  the  neigh- 
Uorhood  of  Ivy  we  stopped  until  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening.  About  one  mile  from  Ivy  the  wheel  of  my 
carryall  broke.  A  neighbor  came  to  us  with  an  axe  and 
put  a  pole  under  the  axletree,  and  we  proceeded  on  our 
way.  We  had  gone  but  a  few  hundred  yards  when  the 
wagon  turned  over ;  we  righted  it,  and  Thompson  took  a 
carpet-sack  full  of  goods,  filled  his  pockets,  and  then  told 
me  '  to  go  to ;  he  would  not  take  me  to  head- 
quarters.' Changing  his  mind,  however,  he  said  he 
would,  as  he  had  orders  so  to  do,  and  showed  me  the  de- 
spatch written  by  Lieutenant  Johnson  to  General  Van 
Dorn.     It  read  as  follows : — 

" '  I  have  succeeded  in  capturing  Mr.  Killdare.  Archy 
Cheatham,  of  Nashville,  says  Killdare  is  not  loyal  to  the 
Confederacy.  The  Federals  have  mounted  five  hundred 
light  infantry.     Sanford's  being  killed  is  confirmed.' 

"Thompson,  being  very  drunk,  left  me,  taking  the 
goods  he  stole.  Two  citizens  came  up  shortly  and  told 
me  to  turn  round,  and  stop  all  night  at  Isaac  Ivy's,  1st 
District,  Williamson  County.  There  we  took  the  re- 
mainder of  the  goods  into  the  house.  At  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  a  negro  woman  came  and  knocked  at  the 
door. 

"  Mr.  Ivy  says,  '  What  do  you  want  ?' 

" '  A  soldier  is  down  at  the  creek,  and  wants  to  know 
where  his  prisoner  is,'  was  the  reply. 

" '  What  has  he  done  with  the  goods  he  took  from  that 
man?' 

'"He  has  left  them  at  our  house,  and  has  just  started 
up  the  creek  as  I  came  up.' 

" '  That  will  do.     Go  on.' 


ADVENTURE  OF  KILLDARE,  THE  SCOUT.  133 

*'I  "U'fis  awake,  and  tried  to  make  my  escape,  asking 
Mr.  Ivy  if  he  had  a  couple  of  saddles  to  loan  me. 

"  He  said  he  had ;  and  I  borrowed  from  him  seven 
dollars,  as  Thompson  took  all  my  money  (fifty  dollars  in 
Georgia  Currency).  He  (Ivy)  then  told  me  the  route  I 
should  take — going  a  few  miles  towards  Franklin,  and 
then  turn  towards  my  home  in  Nashville.  Taking  Ivy's 
advice,  Ave  proceeded  on  our  way  towards  Franklin. 
About  eight  miles  from  Franklin,  four  guerrillas  came  up 
to  me  and  fired  two  pistols. 

"'Halt!'  said  they;  'you  Avant  to  make  your  way  to 
the  Yankees.     We  have  a  notion  to  kill  you,  any  way.' 

"  They  then  ordered  me  to  turn,  which  I  did — two  go- 
ing behind,  whipping  the  mules,  and  hooting  and  halloo- 
ing at  a  great  rate.  "We  then  turned  back  to  Ivy's. 
When  we  got  there,  I  said — 

" '  Where  is  Thompson,  my  guard,  who  told  me  to  go 
on?' 

"'He  was  here  early  this  morning,  and  has  gone  up 
the  hill  hunting  you,  after  borrowing  my  shot-gun,'  was 
the  answer. 

"  Some  conversation  ensued  between  the  parties,  when 
Ivy  wrote  a  note  to  General  Van  Horn  and  gave  it  to 
Thompson.  Ivy  then  gave  us  our  equipage,  and  we  went 
towards  Spring  Hill.  On  the  way  we  met,  on  Carter's 
Creek  Pike,  a  camp  of  four  hundred  Texan  Rangers. 
We  arrived  at  Spring  Hill  at  sundown  of  the  day  follow- 
ing. At  Van  Horn's  head-quarters  I  asked  for  an  inter- 
view with  the  general,  which  was  not  allowed,  but  was 
ordered  to  Columbia  to  prison  until  further  orders. 

"The  next  evening  a  Nashville  soldier,  who  stood  sen- 
tinel, let  me  out,  and  said,  '  You  have  no  business  here.' 
I  made  my  way  towards  Shelbyville,  crossed  over  Duck 
Creek ;  made  my  way  to  the  Louisburg  and  Franklin 
Pike,  and  started  towards  Franklin.  Before  we  got  to 
the  pickets  we  took  to  the  woods,  and  thus  got  round  the 
pickets.     A  farmer  reported  having  seen  me  to  the  guard. 


Vol  THE  NIGHT  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  KALL's  BLUFF. 

and  [  was  taken  again  towards  Yan  Dorn's  head-quarters, 
six  miles  distant.  I  bad  gone  about  one  mile,  when  I  fell 
in  with  Colonel  Lewis'  command,  and  was  turned  over,  to 
an  orderly-sergeant,  with  whom  I  was  acquainted,  and 
by  whom  I  was  taken  to  the  head-quarters  of  Colonel 
Lewis.  There  I  was  discharged  from  arrest,  and  was 
told  by  the  colonel  what  route  I  should  take  in  order  to 
avoid  the  scouts,  which  I  did,  and  finally  arrived  safely 
within  the  Union  lines." 


THE  NIGHT  OP  THE  BATTLE  OP  BALL'S  BLTJIT. 

It  was  a  gloomy  night  in  "Washington.  One  of  the 
imexyjected  and  heart-cliilling  disasters  which  befell  the 
Union  arms  in  the  earlv  history  of  the  war  had  that  day 
happened  at  Ball's  Bluff  (October  21,  1861).  Our  forces 
had  been  routed  and  slaughtered,  and  the  gallant  Colonel 
Baker,  who  had  left  the  Senate-chamber  to  lead  his 
splendid  California  Regiment  to  the  war,  had  fallen,  dying 
instantly,  pierced  at  the  same  second  by  seven  bullets. 
This  Avas  a  natioiial  loss.  His  place  iu  the  arm}'-,  in  the 
Senate,  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  of  California  and  Ore- 
gon, in  the  admiration  of  his  companions-in-arms  in 
Mexico,  a-nd  in  the  realms  of  eloquence,  would  remain 
vacant.  No  man  living  was  invested  with  all  these  rare 
and  great  attributes  in  so  eminent  a  degree.  The  appa- 
rently well-founded  suspicion  that  he  had  fallen  a  victim 
to  the  foulest  treason  subsequently  mingled  the  intensest 
indignation  with  inconsolable  grief  for  his  cruel  and  un- 
timely death. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  the  news  reached 
Willard's;  but  a  large  crowd  was  still  there,  among 
whom,  as  always,  were  many  well-known  public  men. 
In  those  days  secession  was  more  popular  in  Washington 
than  it  has  since  been  or  is  likely  ever  to  become  again. 
Not  only  was  some  slimy  spy  lurking  within  earshot  of 


THE  NIGHT  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  BALL'S  BLUFF.  135 

everv  man  worth  tracking,  but  there  were  scores  of  strong 
sympathizers  with  the  rebellion,  who  caught  with  avidity 
the  first  rumor  of  disaster  to  the  national  arms. 

These  abettors  and  agents  of  Davis  wore  the  mask  as 
closely  as  they  could ;  and  although  the  habitues  of  the 
capital  could  tell  them  at  a  glance,  and  by  an  instinct  of 
loyalty  nearly  infallible,  knew  when  one  of  them  entered 
the  room,  yet  on  some  occasions  the  sudden  announce- 
ment of  bad  news  for  our  cause  threw  them  from  their 
guard,  and  the  gleam  of  fiendish  delight  flashed  from 
their  faces. 

"  Baker  w%as  killed  at  Ball's  Bluff  this  afternoon." 

Never  did  news  transform  men's  countenances  quicker. 
One  class  received  it  with  blank  amazement  and  horror , 
the  other,  with  demoniac  exultation. 

Words  fell  which  neither  party  could  restrain;  and 
the  blood  of  the  coolest  began  to  boil  when  they  heard 
the  murdered  Baker's  name  insulted.  A  movement  was 
made  which  bolder  men  than  traitors  would  not  have 
attempted  to  resist.  The  villains  started,  by  a  common 
impulse,  for  the  two  doorways,  or  that  mosaic  pavement 
would  have  worn  another  color  within  ten  seconds.  A 
minute  later,  the  place  was  cleansed;  the  unclean  spirit 
had  gone  out! — all  but  one,  perhaps. 

A  very  red-faced,  stalwart  man,  who  had  stood  by  and 
seen  all  that  had  been  going  on  without  saying  a  word, 
finally  remarked,  with  a  pretty  determined  air,  that  "  as 
.V)r  himself  he  didnt  care  much  about  the  fight.  He  lived 
on  the  Lower  Mississippi,  and  the  people  down  his  way 
could  take  care  of  themselves.  As  long  as  they  owned 
the  Mississippi,  the  d — d  abolitionists  could  make  all  the 
muss  they  pleased.  We  hold  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and 
the  Northwest,  and  the  Yankees  may  be  d — d." 

A  very  tall,  lean,  awkward,  bony-looking  man  sidled 
quietly  up  to  the  Mississippian,  and,  putting  his  nose,  by 
a  stoop,  quite  close  to  his  face,  said,  in  unmistakable /ar- 
Western  brogue — ■ 


136  THE  NIGHT  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  EALL's  BLUFF. 

"  Look  here,  stranger,"  and  gentl j  emphasizing  his  re- 
mark by  taking  the  stranger's  left  ear  between  bis  thumb 
and  finger;  "now  you  may  not  know  it,  but  I  live  in 
Minnesoty,  and  we  make  that  Mississippi  water  you  call 
yourn,  and  we  kalkilate  to  use  it  some." 

The  stranger's  hand  moved  pretty  quick  for  a  side- 
pocket,  but  not  quite  quick  enough.  I  saw  a  movement, 
I  heard  a  blow,  and  the  blood  spattered  surrounders 
slightly.  In  less  time  than  such  enterprises  usually  re- 
quire, the  stranger  had  fallen  heavily  on  the  marble  floor, 
striking  his  head  against  an  iron  column,  and  remaining 
in  a  condition  which  rendered  it  desirable  to  have  hi3 
friends  look  after  him,  if  he  had  any. 

The  Western  gentleman  was  congratulated — when  he 
apologized,  "  I  didn't  want  to  hurt  the  feller,  and  I  didn't 
care  about  his  bowie-knife  going  through  me,  nother. 
But  the  tarnal  traitor  must  let  the  old  country  alone,  and 
j)artickilarly  that  big  river.  We  want  to  use  that  ihar. 
out  West." 

Baker's  body  was  brought  across  the  Potomac  the  even- 
ing he  fell.  It  rested  all  day,  and  then  by  ambulance  was 
conveyed  to  Washington,  and  carried  through  the  same 
hospitable  doorway  of  his  friend  Colonel  Webb,  from 
whose  steps  I  had  parted  with  him  as  he  mounted  his 
horse  and  gave  us  his  warm,  earnest  hand  only  two  or 
three  mornings  before !  Oh,  how  radiant  was  his  face ! 
how  athletic  and  symmetrical  his  form !  how  unsullied 
his  ambition  !  how  pure  his  devotion  to  God  and  country  ! 

"God  spare  his  life,  at  least'."  we  said,  as  we  saw  him 
disappear  around  the  corner !  This  prayer  Heaven  could 
not  grant. 

The  following  day,  when  the  last  preparations  for  the 
tomb  had  been  made,  we  went  to  gaze  once  more,  and 
forever,  on  what  of  earth  remained  of  the  form  which  so 
lately  enshrined  the  noble  spirit. 

"  Then  monrnfuUy  the  parting  bugle  bid 
Its  farewell  o'er  the  grave. " 


INCIDENTS  OF  FORT  PICKENS.  137 

California  claimed  her  hero  and  statesman,  and  his 
ashes  now  repose  on  the  calm  shore  of  that  ocean  -which 
washes  the  western  base  of  the  empire  for  whose  glory 
he  lived  and  died.  His  body  lies  in  Lone  Mountain 
Cemetery,  near  the  city  of  San  Francisco,  and  over  it  will 
rise  one  of  the  most  superb  monuments  which  the  genius 
of  Art  has  ever  erected  in  honor  of  human  greatness. 


INCIDENTS  or  rOET  PICKENS. 

I  went  to  visit  the  Fort.  Took  a  circuit  first  of  the 
covered  way,  then  of  the  parapet  and  ramparts.  All 
around  the  JPort,  inside  and  out,  were  marks  of  the  ene- 
my's shot  and  shell.  On  the  glacis,  here  and  there,  are 
deep  grooves,  ending  in  a  large  hole,  where  the  shot  had 
plumped  into  it,  and  where  had  been  shell  which  had 
burst.  The  hole  was  a  great  excavation,  into  which  you 
could  drive  an  ox-cart.  Where  tha  projectiles  have  struck 
the  standing  walls,  they  have  clipped  oft*  patches  of  the 
brick- work  (it  is  a  brick  and  not  a  stone  fort)  perhaps 
eight  or  ten  feet  deep,  and,  where  they  struck  the  corners, 
larger  portions  have  been  removed ;  but  in  no  case  has 
any  part  of  the  fortifications  received  an  injury  tending 
in  the  least  to  weaken  it,  and  this  after  two  days'  heavy 
firing. 

The  only  man  who  was  killed  outright  during  the  two 
days'  action,  was  an  artilleryman,  who  was  passing  into 
the  casemates  with  some  bread  from  the  bake-house.  A 
shell  exploded  at  the  other  side  of  the  area,  and  one  piece, 
fiying  a  distance  of  some  two  or  three  hundred  feet,  passed 
throuorh  his  body,  under  his  arms.  He  walked  a  few 
steps  and  fell  dead. 

There  were  many  almost  miraculous  escapes.  A  shell 
was  heard  coming  toward  a  gun  on  the  parapet,  and  the 
men  dodged  under  their  bomb-proofs.  The  shell  hi^-  fair 
on  top  of  the  bomb-proof,  went  through,  and  dropped  into 


138  INCIDENTS  OF  FORT  PICKENS. 

a  pail  of  water  beside  the  officer,  where  it  exploded. 
When  the  men  came  out  again  to  resume  their  work,  all 
they  saw  of  the  officer  was  his  heels  sticking  out  of  a 
pile  of  rubbish.  After  digging  him  out,  they  stood 
amazed  to  see  that  he  was  not  even  hurt.  He  rose  up, 
shook  the  sand  from  his  hair  and  clothes,  and  coolly- 
said — 

"  Come,  come !  what  are  you  standing  there  gaping  at  ? 
Load  that  gun,  there."  At  it  they  went  again,  as  if  nothing 
had  happened. 

Another  officer,  who  had  charge  of  a  battery  of  mor- 
tars, had  no  less  than  seventeen  shells  strike  within  ten 
yards  of  him.  I  saw  the  ground  ploughed  up  in  every 
direction,  and  yet  not  a  man  was  hurt.  About  twenty  of 
the  men,  who  had  been  relieved  from  their  guns,  were 
sitting  smoking  and  watching  the  firing  in  a  corner  pro- 
tected from  shot  by  the  walls,  when  half  of  a  huge  shell 
struck  and  buried  itself  right  in  the  middle  of  the  group, 
without  disturbing  them  in  the  least. 

"  What's  that?"  asked  one. 

"  The  devil  knows,  and  he  won't  tell,"  indifferently  re- 
sponded another,  and  went  on  smoking. 

A  ten-inch  columbiad  came  rolling  toward  a  group, 
the  fuse  whizzing  and  smoking. 

"  Wonder  if  that'll  hit  us  ?" 

"Guess  not ;  we're  too  near  it !"  Crack  went  the  shell  I 
flying  in  every  direction,  but  fortunately  escaping  them 
ail. 

The  rebel  powder  was  poor ;  as  also  their  shot,  except 
that  portion  which  they  succeeded  in  stealing  before  the 
rebellion  broke  out.  Their  practice,  however,  was  said 
to  be  good — how  could  it  have  been  otherwise  ?  Uncle 
Sam  taught  them  at  his  unparalleled  school  at  West 
Point,  but  with  little  thought  that  the  teaching  would  be 
thus  employed. 


A  STRANGE  SIGHT  IN  BATTLE.  139 


A  STEAUGE  DUEL. 


A  distinguished  duel  occurred  on  the  battle-field  of 
Fort  Donelson,  between  one  of  Col.  Birge's  sharpshooters 
and  a  crack  shot  inside  the  enemy's  fortifications.  Both 
fired  accurately,  but  both  concealed  their  persons  as 
much  as  possible,  and  endeavored  to  deceive  each  other 
by  putting  their  hats  on  their  ramrods,  and  thrusting  their 
coats  from  behind  the  fortifications  or  the  trees.  What- 
ever was  exposed,  almost  invariably  received  a  bullet ; 
but  the  two  were  so  wary  and  skilful,  that  it  seemed  they 
might  fire  until  doomsday  without  danger  to  either. 
About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  however,  the  rebel, 
forgetful  of  prudence,  thrust  his  head  over  the  breast- 
works, thinking,  no  doubt,  as  his  enemy  had  not  fired  for 
five  minutes,  that  he  might  be  dead.  The  movement  was 
fatal.  His  head  was  not  exposed  five  seconds,  but  in 
that  brief  period  the  sharpshooter's  ball  passed  into  the 
rebel's  brain,  and  stretched  him  out  a  corpse,  before  the 
unfortunate  fellow  had  been  able  to  determine  where  his 
enemy  was  lurking,  or  by  whose  hand  he  was  destined  to 
fall. 


A  STEANGE  SIGHT  IN  BATTLE. 

At  the  battle  of  Stone  River,  Tennessee,  wdiile  the  men 
were  lying  behind  a  crest  waiting,  a  brace  of  frantic  wild 
turkeys,  so  paralyzed  with  fright  that  they  were  incapa- 
ble of  flying,  ran  between  the  lines  and  endeavored  to 
hide  among  the  men.  But  the  frenzy  among  the  turkeys 
w\as  not  so  touching  as  the  exquisite  fright  of  the  birds 
and  rabbits.  When  the  roar  of  battle  rushed  through  the 
cedar  thickets,  flocks  of  little  birds  flattered  and  circled 
above  the  field  in  a  state  of  utter  bewilderment,  and 
scores  of  rabbits  fled  for  protection  to  the  men  lying  dowa 


138  INCIDENTS  OF  FORT  PICKENS. 

a  pail  of  water  beside  the  officer,  where  it  exploded. 
When  the  men  came  out  again  to  resume  their  work,  all 
they  saw  of  the  officer  was  his  heels  sticking  out  of  a 
pile  of  rubbish.  After  digging  him  out,  thej  stood 
amazed  to  see  that  he  was  not  even  liurt.  He  rose  up, 
shook  the  sand  from  his  hair  and  clothes,  and  coolly 
said — 

"  Come,  come !  what  are  you  standing  there  gaping  at  ? 
Load  that  gun,  there."  At  it  they  went  again,  as  if  nothing 
had  happened. 

Another  officer,  who  had  charge  of  a  battery  of  mor- 
tars, had  no  less  than  seventeen  shells  strike  within  ten 
yards  of  him.  I  saw  the  ground  ploughed  up  in  every 
direction,  and  yet  not  a  man  was  hurt.  About  twenty  of 
the  men,  who  had  been  relieved  from  their  guns,  were 
sitting  smoking  and  watching  the  firing  in  a  corner  pro- 
tected from  shot  by  the  walls,  when  half  of  a  huge  shell 
struck  and  buried  itself  right  in  the  middle  of  the  group, 
without  disturbing  them  in  the  least. 

"What's  that?"  asked  one. 

"  The  devil  knows,  and  he  won't  tell,"  indifferently  re- 
sponded another,  and  went  on  smoking. 

A  ten-inch  columbiad  came  rolling  toward  a  group, 
the  fuse  whizzing  and  smoking. 

"  Wonder  if  that'll  hit  us  ?" 

"Guess  not ;  we're  too  near  it !"  Crack  went  the  shell ! 
flying  in  every  direction,  but  fortunately  escaping  them 
all. 

The  rebel  powder  was  poor ;  as  also  their  shot,  except 
that  portion  which  they  succeeded  in  stealing  before  the 
rebellion  broke  out.  Their  practice,  however,  was  said 
to  be  good — how  could  it  have  been  otherwise  ?  Uncle 
Sam  taught  them  at  his  unparalleled  school  at  West 
Point,  but  with  little  thought  that  the  teaching  would  be 
thus  employed. 


A  STRANGE  SIGHT  IN  BATTLE.  139 


A  STEANGE  DUEL. 


A  disting^uished  duel  occurred  on  the  battle-field  of 
Fort  Donelson,  between  one  of  Col.  Birge's  sharpshooters 
and  a  crack  shot  inside  the  enemy's  fortifications.  Both 
fired  accurately,  but  both  concealed  their  persons  as 
much  as  possible,  and  endeavored  to  deceive  each  other 
by  putting  their  hats  on  their  ramrods,  and  thrusting  their 
coats  from  behind  the  fortifications  or  the  trees.  What- 
ev^er  was  exposed,  almost  invariably  received  a  bullet ; 
but  the  two  were  so  wary  and  skilful,  that  it  seemed  they 
might  fire  until  doomsday  without  danger  to  either. 
About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  however,  the  rebel, 
forgetful  of  prudence,  thrust  his  head  over  the  breast- 
works, thinking,  no  doubt,  as  his  enemy  had  not  fired  for 
five  minutes,  that  he  might  be  dead.  The  movement  was 
fatal.  His  head  was  not  exposed  five  seconds,  but  in 
that  brief  period  the  sharpshooter's  ball  passed  into  the 
rebel's  brain,  and  stretched  him  out  a  corpse,  before  the 
unfortunate  fellow  had  been  able  to  determine  where  his 
enemy  was  lurking,  or  by  whose  hand  he  was  destined  to 
fall. 


A  STEANGE  SIGHT  IN  BATTLE. 

At  the  battle  of  Stone  River,  Tennessee,  while  the  men 
were  lying  behind  a  crest  waiting,  a  brace  of  frantic  wild 
turkeys,  so  paralyzed  with  fright  that  they  were  incapa- 
ble of  flying,  ran  between  the  lines  and  endeavored  to 
hide  among  the  men.  But  the  frenzy  among  the  turkeys 
was  not  so  touching  as  the  exquisite  fright  of  the  birds 
and  rabbits.  When  the  roar  of  battle  rushed  through  the 
cedar  thickets,  flocks  of  little  birds  fluttered  and  circled 
above  the  field  in  a  state  of  utter  bewilderment,  and 
scores  of  rabbits  fled  for  protection  to  the  men  lying  down 


140  HEROISM  IN  THE  HOSPITAL. 

in  line  on  tlie  left,  nestling  under  their  coats  and  creeping 
under  their  legs  in  a  state  of  utter  distraction.  They 
hopped  over  the  field  like  toads,  and  as  perfectly  tamed 
by  fright  as  household  pets.  Many  officers  witnessed  it, 
remarking  it  as  one  of  the  most  curious  spectacles  ever 
seen  upon  a  battle-field. 


HEEOISM  IN  TEE  HOSPITAL. 

The  surgeon  said,  "  He  can  hardly  live." 

He  laid  the  hand  down  softly,  and  left  this  patient,  to 
pass  through  the  ward. 

It  seemed  to  say  that  all  that  earth  could  do  had  been 
done,  to  save  the  life  of  the  gallant  young  soldier.  I  fol- 
lowed the  surgeon  a  few  steps  on  the  routine  of  duty. 
"We  stopped,  and  looked  each  other  in  the  face.  He  knew 
I  wanted  to  know  the  whole  truth. 

"  Must  the  boy  die  ?" 

"  There  is  a  shadow  of  a  chance.  I  will  come  again  after 
midnight." 

I  went  back,  with  a  heavy  heart,  to  the  cot  we  had  left, 
and,  knowing  something  of  hospitals  and  dying  men,  I 
sat  down  to  wait  and  see  what  new  symptoms  would 
occur,  with  the  full  directions  of  the  surgeon  in  any 
event. 

The  opiate,  or  whatever  it  may  have  been,  which  I  had 
last  administered,  could  not  take  effect  at  once  ;  and  some- 
what worn  out  with  the  day's  labors,  I  sat  down  to  think. 
To  sleep  was  out  of  the  question ;  for  I  had  become  so 
deeply  interested  in  this  young  man  it  seemed  to  me  I 
could  not  give  him  up. 

It  was  nearly  midnight.  The  gas  had  been  turned  off 
just  enough  to  leave  the  light  needed,  and  twilight  was 
grateful  to  the  sick  room ;  for  in  this  vast  chamber  there 
were  more  than  two  hundred  sick  men.  Now  and  then 
came  a  suppressed  moan  from  one  couch,  or  a  low  plaint 


HEROISM  IN  THE  HOSPITAL.  141 

of  hopeless  pain — while  at  intervals  thrilled  from  the  high 
ceiling  the  shrill  scream  of  agony.  But  all  the  while  the 
full  harvest-moon  was  pouring  in  all  the  lustrous  sympathy 
and  effulgence  it  could  give,  as  it  streamed  over  the  mar- 
ble pile  called  the  Patent  Office,  the  unfinished  north 
wing  of  which  had  been  dedicated  to  this  house  of  suf- 
fering. 

Almost  noiselessly,  the  doors  of  this  ward  opened  every 
few  moments,  for  the  gentle  tread  of  the  niofht  nurses,  who 
came,  in  their  sleepless  vigils,  to  see  if  in  these  hours 
they  could  render  some  service  still  to  the  stricken,  the 
fallen,  and  yet  no^  comfortless. 

Leaving  my  young  friend  for  a  few  moments,  I  walked 
through  the  north  aisle;  and  it  seemed  to  me — so  perfect 
was  the  regime  of  the  hospital,  so  grand  was  its  architec- 
tural proportions — more  like  walking  through  some 
European  cathedral  by  moonlight,  than  through  a  place 
for  sick  soldiers.  The  silence  greater  than  speech,  the 
suffering  unexpressed,  the  heroism  which  did  not  utter 
one  complaint,  the  completeness  of  the  whole  system  of 
care  and  curative  process,  made  one  of  those  sights  and 
scenes  which  I  would  not  tear  away  from  my  memory 
if  I  could ;  for  they  have  mingled  themselves  with  asso- 
ciations that  will  link  each  month  and  year  of  time  to 
come  with  all  the  months  and  years  gone  before  them. 

I  felt  a  strange  interest  in  this  young  man  whom  I  had 
left  in  what  I  supposed  was  his  last  quiet  slumber;  and 
yet  I  knew  he  would  wake  once  more  before  he  died.  I 
approached  his  cot  again.  He  was  still  sleeping,  and  so 
tranquilly  I  felt  a  little  alarmed  lest  he  might  never  wake 
till  I  had  touched  his  pulse  and  found  it  still  softly  beat- 
ing. 

I  let  him  sleep,  and  I  thought  I  would  sit  by  his  sido 
till  the  surgeon  came. 

I  took  a  long,  free  breath,  for  I  supposed  it  was  all  hope- 
lessly over.  Then  I  thought  of  his  strange  history  : — I 
knew  it  well 


142  HEROISM  IN  THE  HOSPITAL. 

He  was  born  not  far  from  Trenton  Falls  — the  youngest 
son,  among  several  brothers,  of  one  of  the  brave  tillers 
of  that  hard  soil.  He  had  seen  his  family  grow  up  nobly 
and  sturdily,  under  the  discipline  of  a  good  religion  and 
good  government,  and  with  a  determination  to  defend 
both.  When  his  country's  troubles  began,  his  first  im- 
pulse thus  found  expression  to  his  brothers  :  "  Let  me 
go ;  for  you  are  all  married ;  and  if  I  fall,  no  matter." 

He  went.  He  had  followed  the  standard  of  the  Repub- 
lic into  every  battle-field  where  the  struggle  carried  him, 
till,  worn  out,  but  not  wounded,  he  was  l3orne  to  this  hos- 
pital in  Washington,  a  sick  boy.  He  seemed  to  have  a 
charmed  life,  for  on  several  occasions  his  comrades  had 
been  shot  dead  or  wounded  on  either  side ;  and  Avhen  his 
last  cartridge  had  done  execution,  he  carried  off'  two  of 
his  wounded  companions  from  the  field,  bearing  them  and 
their  muskets  to  the  rear — if  there  were  a  rear  to  the  flight 
from  the  Bull  Eun  of  July,  '61  — and  nourished  and 
watched  and  stood  by  these  comrades  till  they  died,  and 
then  got  the  help  of  a  farmer  to  carry  them  with  his  cart, 
a  whole  day  afterward,  to  be  buried  in  a  place  Avhich  he 
chose. 

The  boy's  example  had  inspired  that  farmer  with  such 
benevolence — if  he  were  not  inspired  by  patriotism  al- 
ready— that  he  made  honored  graves  for  them ;  and  the 
writer  of  this  Avork  hioivs  where  their  ashes  rest. 

When  this  was  all  over,  the  boy  came  back,  as  a  kind 
of  rear-guard,  of  one,  in  the  flight  of  the  army  of  the 
Potomac,  and,  having  reached  the  city  of  Washington 
and  reported  himself  to  his  commander,  fell  senseless  on 
Pennsylvania  Avenue.  He  was  taken  to  a  neighboring 
house  and  well  cared  for ;  and  I  saw  him  in  the  hospital 
of  which  I  have  spoken. 

But  this  was  only  his  life  as  a  soldier.  There  was 
another  and  a  deeper  life  than  that.  The  great  loadstone 
that  had  led  him  away  was  the  magnet  of  his  nation. 


nETvOISM  IN  THE  HOSriTAI*.  1x3 

Another  loadstone  held  his  heart  at  home ;  it  was  the 
magnet  of  Love. 

His  wild  and  wayward  history — wild  only  with  ad- 
venture and  wayward  only  with  romance,  he  seemed  to 
me.  as  I  looked  upon  his  face,  so  calm,  and  chiselled  into 
sculptured  beauty — I  thought,  either  he  looked  like  an 
Apollo  with  his  unstrung  bow,  or  a  nautilus,  cast  on  the 
turbulent  ocean,  to  be  wafted  to  some  unknown  clime,  or 
sink  forever,  on  the  floor  of  the  deep  sea,  to  find  a  coral 
sepulchre. 

His  dark  eyelashes — bent  up  in  such  clear  relief  against 
their  white  ground — slowly  and  calmly  began  to  move. 

I  sprang  to  my  feet ;  for  it  seemed  to  me  there  was  a 
chance  yet. 

The  surgeon  was  long  in  coming ;  and  yet  I  knew  he 
would  come.  He  did.  His  sharp  and  experienced  eye, 
as  he  approached  the  cot,  opened  with  surprise.  Touch- 
ing my  shoulder,  he  said,  with  surprise — ■ 

"He  is  still  alive."' 

In  an  instant,  taking  the  hand  of  the  dying  or  dead 
boy — I  scarcely  knew  which — -a  faint  smile  passed  over 
the  surgeon's  face. 

''  I  am  not  sure  but  he  may  come  up  yet.  If  he  revives, 
there  is  one  chance  left  for  him,  if  it  be  but  one  in  a 
thousand.  But  I  will  work  for  that  chance,  and  see  what 
it  will  come  to.  '  Here  Art  triumphs,  if  it  triumphs  at 
all.' " 

The  pulse  seemed  to  be  coming  as  he  took  the  hand. 

"  It  acts  strangely ;  but  I  have  seen  two  or  three  cases 
very  much  like  it.  Mind  you,  I  do  not  think  we  can  do 
much  with  this  case ;  but  you  stay  and  watch,  and  I  will 
come  back  in  half  an  hour. 

So,  while  he  went  through  some  other  wards,  I  watched 
the  patient.  The  last  glimmer  of  life,  which  had  given 
some  light  as  this  scene  was  being  enacted,  faded  luio 
what  seemed  to  me  the  calmest  repose  of  death. 


144  HEROISM  IN  THE  HOSPITAL. 

But  tlien,  I  thought,  it  is  a  strange  sight,  a  heart  filled 
with  the  earnest  passions  of  youth,  in  the  first  hopes  of 
life  budding  into  their  fruition  beneath  his  own  primeval 
forest-shades,  where  if  there  be  an  element  that  ever 
sanctified  an  early  life  it  would  have  built  a  sanctuary — • 
for  the  love  he  must  have  borne  to  the  fair  being  for 
whom  he  had  treasured  up  his  boyhood's  jewels,  for  whom 
he  gave  up  everything  of  the  earth  earthy,  to  rescue  a 
Eepublic,  and  then  go  back  after  this  episode  of  suffering 
to  inaugurate  the  life  of  a  citizen  farmer  on  the  bleak 
hills  of  New  York : — if  all  this  could  not  sustain  him, 
what  could  ? 

In  former  visits  to  him  he  had  made  me  his  confidant 
in  regard  to  these  matters.  He  seemed  to  be  hatmted 
with  the  idea  that  he  would,  after  all,  return  to  Utica, 
and  once  more  see  those  he  loved ;  and  yet  he  also  seemed 
to  me  like  one  whose  days  were  numbered,  and  the  sur- 
geon had  told  me,  after  repeated  counsels  with  his  profes- 
sional brethren,  that  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  save  his 
life,  and  that  I  must  not  expect  it. 

All  the  while  I  clung  to  the  belief  that  some  vitality 
of  faith,  or  love,  or  hope,  or  patriotism,  or  divine  aid, 
would  still  send  that  boy  back  to  the  banks  of  the  Mo- 
hawk. 

I  saw  another  nervous  twitch  around  the  temples.  I 
felt  his  pulse.  It  was  an  indication  of  hope,  or  sudden 
death. 

The  surgeon  came  by  again. 

"  That  boy  has  wonderful  vitality,"  he  said,  as  he  looked 
at  his  face.  Whether  it  was  purely  my  fancy,  my  hope, 
or  a  fact,  I  did  not  know,  but  twilight  seemed  to  pass 
over  his  face. 

"Yes,  yes — I — I — wait — a  moment.  Oh,  I  shall  not  die !" 

He  opened  his  eyes  calmly,  and  then  a  glow  which  I 
shall  never  forget  suffused  his  cheek,  and,  lifting  his 
emaciated  hands  for  the  first  time  in  several  weeks — 
feebly,  it  is  true,  but  they  seemed  to  me  strong — he  ex- 


HEROISM  IN  THE  HOSPITAL.  145 

claimed,  in  a  natural  voice,  "  How  floats  tlie  old  flag  now, 
bojs?" 

The  transition  from  death  to  life  seemed  like  enchant- 
ment. I  could  scarcely  believe  my  senses.  And  yet  1 
knew  that  if  he  ever  rallied  this  would  be  the  way. 

I  now  feared  that  his  excitement  would  carry  him  be- 
yond his  strength.  I  could  not  keep  him  from  talking. 
I  was  beudino;  over  him  to  see  if  he  would  remember  me. 
Looking  me  steadily  in  the  eyes,  his  brows  knit  with  per- 
plexity for  a  few  seconds,  when  with  a  smile  of  delight 

and  surprise  he  said,  "  Yes  1  yes !  it  is  j^ou,  Mr.  L .    I 

am  glad  you  stayed  with  me.  I  have  been  dreaming 
about  you  while  I've  been  asleep ;  and  I  must  have  been 
asleep  a  great  while.     How  long?" 

I  told  him  enough  to  let  him  understand  how  ill  he 
had  been,  how  long,  and  how  weak  he  still  was.  He  did 
not  realize  it.  His  eyes  wandered  down  to  his  thin  hands, 
white  as  alabaster,  and  through  which  the  pale-blue 
thread-like  veins  wandered. 

"  Oh !  is  it  I  ? — so  lean  ?  I  was  not  so  when  I  fell  sick." 
And  large  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks. 

I  implored  him  to  be  quiet  and  rest,  and  I  promised 
him  he  should  get  better  every  day,  and  be  able  to  go 
home  in  a  short  time.  But  he  grew  impatient  the  more 
I  tried  to  soothe  and  restrain  him. 

He  looked  at  me  beseechingly,  and  asked,  *'  Won't  you 
let  me  talk  a  little  ?  I  must  know  something  more,  or 
it  seems  to  me  I  shall  go  crazy.  Please  put  your  ear 
down  to  me;  I  won't  speak  loud — I  won't  get  excited." 

I  did.     "  Have  you  got  any  letters  for  me  ?" 

''  Yes,  but  they  are  at  my  office.  You  shall  have  them 
to-morrow.     They  are  all  well  at  home." 

"  And  Bella  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh,  God  be  praised  !" 

After  a  few  moments  of  repose,  he  again  opened  hia 
eyes  wide. 
10 


146  HEROISM  IN  THE  HOSPITAL. 

"  I  have  been  gone  so  long  from  the  army  I  It  seemerl 
as  though  I  never  could  get  back  when  I  got  home.  I 
got  away ;  and  I  wandered,  and  wandered — Oh  !  how 
tired  I  was!  Where  is  McDowell? — Is  General  Scott 
dead?  They  said  so.  Did  they  carry  off  Old  Abe? 
How  did  he  get  back  ?  Did  the  rebels  get  into  Wash- 
ington that  night  ?  How  long  have  I  been  sick  ?  What 
place  is  this  ? — Oh,  my  head  !  my  head  I" 

I  was  frightened.  He  had  risen  from  the  deep  ocean 
into  the  sunlight  for  a  brief  hour,  and  now  he  seemed  to 
be  going  down  to  come  up  no  more.  The  tender  chord 
of  memory  had  given  way.  In  a  little  while  the  surgeon 
came  by,  and  I  told  him  what  had  happened. 

"  I  was  afraid  of  that.  But  I  think  we  can  manage  it. 
If  he  wakes  again  witnin  two  hours,  give  him  this  powder 
on  his  tongue,  and  a  sip  of  the  liquid.  If  he  does  not, 
wake  him  gently." 

And  so  that  anxious  night  wore  away.  In  the  morn- 
ing he  woke  bright  and  clear;  and  from  that  hour  he 
began  to  get  well.  But  for  whole  days  his  life  was  pul- 
sating in  its  gossamer  tenement,  fluttering  over  the  misty 
barriers  of  the  spirit-world. 

Bella's  letters,  received  during  his  extreme  illness,  could 
now  be  read.  They  were  among  the  noblest  ever  written 
by  woman. 

"  Our  heart-prayers  for  you,"  they  said,  "have  been  an- 
swered by  our  Father.  We  now  wait  only  for  your  re- 
turn. When  we  parted  it  was  not  with  repining;  you 
had  gone  to  the  altar  of  youy  country  in  solemn  and  com- 
plete dedication.  I  too  was  prepared  for  the  sacrifice.  I 
expected  it,  although  I  knew  how  crushingly  the  blow 
would  fall.  But  if  you  had  not  loved  your  country  bet- 
ter than  Bella,  it  would  have  broken  her  heart.  I  hope 
now  in  a  fuw  weeks  you  will  be  again  by  my  side.  When 
your  health  is  once  more  restored,  I  will  promise  in  ad- 
vance, as  you  desire,  not  to  try  to  keep  you  from  rejoin- 
ing your  regiment ;    and  if  the  stars  have  written  that 


JOE  PARSONS,  THE  MARYLAND  BOY.  141 

Walter  shall  not  be  my  husband,  God  has  decreed  that  1 
shall  die  a  widow  never  married." 

He  did  return  to  the  Mohawk  Yalley.  He  married 
Bella.  He  returned  to  the  war ;  and  on  the  eve  of  iha 
great  day  of  Antietam  he  heard  that  his  son  was  boru, 
and  the  hero-father  died  by  the  side  of  Hooker. 


IMPUDENT  COOLNESS. 

Tn  the  midst  of  an  engagement  with  the  rebels,  eighteen 
miles  from  Newtonia,  Mo.,  Gen.  Schofield  sent  Lieutenant 
Bloodfelt  attended  by  an  orderly,  with  orders  to  Colonel 
Hall,  Fourth  Missouri  Cavalry,  to  move  to  the  left  and 
attack  in  that  direction.  The  route  of  the  lieutenant  was 
across  a  point  of  woods,  in  which,  while  passing,  he  sud- 
denly found  himself  facing  about  forty  rebels  drawn  up 
in  irregular  line.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  and 
the  orderly  drew  their  pistols  and  charged.  At  the  same 
time,  tempering  bravery  with  mercy,  and  not  feeling  any 
desire  to  shed  blood  needlessly,  he  drew  out  his  handker- 
chief and  waved  it  in  token  of  his  willingness  to  surround 
and  capture  the  whole  rebel  force  rather  than  shoot  them 
down. 

The  cool  impudence  of  the  act  nonplussed  the  foe,  and 
perhaps  thinking  there  was  a  large  force  in  the  rear,  eight 
of  them  threw  down  their  arms  and  surrendered,  and  the 
balance,  "  skedaddled." 


JOE  PAESOITS,  TEE  MAEYLAND  BOY. 

Joe  enlisted  in  the  First  Maryland  regiment,  and  was 
plainly  a  "rough"  originally.  As  we  passed  along  tlie 
hall  \ve  first  saw  him  crouched  near  an  open  window, 
lustily  singing,  "I'm  a  bold  soldier  boy,"  and  observing 
tha  broad  bandage  over  his  eyes,  I  said — ■ 


148  JOE  PARSONS,  THE  MARYLAND  BOY. 

"  Wbat's  your  name,  my  good  fellow  ?" 

"Joe,  sir,"  he  answered,  "Joe  Parsons." 

"And  what  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

"Blind,  sir,  blind  as  a  bat." 

"  In  battle  ?" 

"  Yes,  at  Antietam ;  both  eyes  shot  out  at  one  clip." 
Poor  Joe  was  in  the  front  at  Antietam  Creek,  and  a  Mini^ 
ball  had  passed  directly  through  his  eyes,  across  his  face, 
destroying  his  sight  forever.  He  was  but  twenty  years 
old,  but  he  was  as  happy  as  a  lark  1 

"It  is  dreadful,"  I  said. 

"I'm  very  thankful  I'm  alive,  sir.  It  might  ha'  been 
worse,  yer  see,"  he  continued.  And  then  he  told  us  his 
story. 

"  I  was  hit,"  he  said,  "  and  it  knocked  me  down.  I  lay 
there  all  night,  and  the  next  day  the  fight  was  renewed, 
I  could  stand  the  pain,  yer  see,  but  the  balls  was  flyin' 
all  round,  and  I  wanted  to  get  away.  I  couldn't  see 
nothin,'  though.  So  I  waited  and  listened ;  and  at  last  I 
heard  a  feller  groanin'  beyond  ne. 

" '  Hello !'  says  I. 

" '  Hello,  yourself,'  says  he. 

" '  Who  be  yer  ?'  says  I — '  a  rebel  ?' 

" '  You're  a  Yankee,'  says  he. 

" '  So  I  am,'  says  I.     '  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?' 

" '  My  leg's  smashed,'  says  he. 

" '  Can't  yer  walk  ?' 

"'No.'     ' Can't  yer  see ?' 

" '  Yes.' 

" '  Well,'  says  I,  '  you're  a rebel,  but  will  you  do 

me  a  little  favor?' 

" '  I  will,'  says  he,  '  ef  I  ken.' 

"  Then  I  says :  '  Well,  ole  butternut,  I  can't  see  nothin'. 
My  eyes  is  knocked  out ;  but  I  ken  walk.  Come  over 
yere.  Let's  git  out  o'  this.  You  p'int  the  way,  an'  I'll 
tote  yer  oif  the  field  on  my  back.' 

"'Bally  for  you,'  says  he. 


A  LOYAL  PIGEON.  149 

"  And  so  "vve  managed  to  get  together.  We  shook  hands 
on  it.  I  took  a  wink  outer  his  canteen,  and  he  got  on 
to  my  shoulders. 

"  I  did  the  walkin'  for  both,  an'  he  did  the  navigatin'. 
An'  ef  he  didn't  make  me  carry  him  straight  into  a  rehel 
colonel's  tent,  a  mile  away,  I'm  a  liar  1  Hows'ever  the 
colonel  came  up,  an'  says  he,  '  Whar  d'yer  come  from  ? 
who  be  yer  ?'  I  told  him.  He  said  I  was  done  for,  and 
couldn't  do  no  more  shoot'n ;  and  he  sent  me  over  to  our 
lines.  So,  after  three  days,  I  came  down  here  with  the 
■wounded  boys,  where  we're  doin'  pretty  well,  all  things, 
considered." 

"  But  you  will  never  see  the  light  again,  my  poor  fellow," 
I  suggested,  sympathetically. 

"  That's  so,"  he  answered,  glibly,  "  but  I  can't  help  it, 
you  notice.  I  did  my  dooty— got  shot,  pop  in  the  eye  — 
an'  that's  my  misfort'n,  not  my  fault— as  the  old  man  said 
of  his  blind  boss. 

"  But — '  I'm  a  bold  soldier  boy,'  "  he  continued,  cheerily 
renewing  his  song ;  and  we  left  him  in  his  singular  mer- 
riment. ^  Poor,  sightless,  unlucky,  but  stout-hearted  Joe 
Parsons. 

A  LOYAL  PIGEON. 

The  following  is  a  true  and  singularly  remarkable  story 
of  a  pigeon  captured  by  Mr.  Tinker,  a  teamster  of  the 
Forty-second  New  York  Volunteers,  while  the  regiment 
■was  encamped  at  Kalorama  Heights,  Ya.  Mr.  Tinker 
made  a  pet  of  him,  and  kept  him  in  camp  until  they 
started  for  Poolesville.  Strange  to  say,  the  pigeon  fol- 
lowed on  with  the  train,  occasionally  flying  away  at  a 
great  distance,  but  always  returning,  and,  when  weary, 
■would  alight  on  some  wagon  of  the  train. 

At  night  he  was  sure  to  come  home,  and  w^atching  his 
opportunity,  would  select  a  position,  and  quietly  go  to 
roost  iu  Tinker's  wagon. 


.  m.'A.».»^    ■  ■  ^W.W 


'i  60  GATHERING  IN  THE  CONTRABANDS. 

Many  of  the  men  in  the  regiment  took  a  fancy  to  him, 
and  he  soon  became  a  general  favorite.  From  Poolesville 
he  followed  to  Washington,  and  down  to  the  dock,  where 
Tinker  took  him  on  board  the  steamer ;  so  he  went  to 
Fortress  Monroe,  thence  to  Yorktown,  where  he  was  ac- 
customed to  make  flights  over  and  beyond  the  enemy's 
works,  but  was  alwa3'^s  sure  to  return  at  evening,  to  roost 
and  receive  his  food  at  Tinker's  wagon.  From  thence 
he  went  all  through  the  Peninsular  campaign,  afterwards 
to  Antietam,  and  Harper's  Ferry,  witnessing  all  the  bat- 
tles fought  by  his  regiment. 

By  this  time  he  had  gained  so  much  favor,  that  a 
friend  offered  twenty-five  dollars  to  purchase  him,  but 
Tinker  would  not  sell  him  at  any  price,  and  soon  after 
sent  him  home  as  a  present  to  some  friend.  It  might  be 
interestinsr  to  trace  the  future  movements  of  this  remark- 
able  specimen  of  the  feathered  tribe,  but  none  will  doubt 
his  instinctive  loyalty  and  attachment  to  the  old  Tammany 
resjiment. 

GATHEEING  BT  THE  CONTRABANDS. 

Our  Southern  brethren  have  been  sensitive  upon  the 
negro-labor  question  from  the  commencement  of  the 
rebellion.  As  a  general  rule,  they  preferred  losing  or 
lending  a  horse  rather  than  a  slave.  They  feared  army 
influences  upon  their  chattel — that  he  would  become  "a 
mean  nigger."  Of  course  the  same  difficulty  would  not 
arise  in  the  army  education  of  the  horse  or  mule.  For 
this  reason  it  is — at  least,  we  can  conceive  of  no  other — 
that  the  rebel  planter  has  often  fled,  at  short  notice,  with 
his  negroes,  leaving  wife,  children,  mules,  hogs,  and 
household  goods  to  the  mercy  of  the  invading  Northmen. 
At  the  outset  the  negroes  were  crammed  with  most  awful 
accounts  of  the  ways  of  the  savage  Yankees,  and  many 
of  the  poor  creatures  were  equally  eager  with  their 
masters  to  fly  from  us. 


GATHERIXQ  IN  THE  CONTRABANDS.  151 

Thus  premising,  we  have  to  relate  an  amusing  affair 
which  occurred  at  Nashville  in  the  fall  of  1802.  Upon 
the  commencement  of  the  fortifications  in  that  city,  orders 
were  given  to  impress  all  able-bodied  male  negroes,  to  be 
put  at  work  upon  the  forts.  The  slaveholders  of  the  city 
at  once  began  to  secrete  their  negroes  in  cellars  and  by- 
ways. The  Federal  officers  said  nothing,  but  resolved  to 
bide  their  time — their  gangs  upon  the  works,  meanwhile, 
singing  and  wheeling  away  quite  merrily.  After  several 
days  all  sensation  subsided,  and  an  occasional  colored 
individual  would  be  seen  at  an  open  window  or  shuffling 
around  a  street-corner. 

At  length  the  time  for  action  was  at  hand.  A  fine 
Sabbath  came,  and  with  it  a  large  congregation  of  pious 
negroes,  in  all  their  Sunday  array  and  perfumery.  They 
felt  in  fine  feather;  for  was  not  the  city  being  fortified 
and  defended,  and  the  day  of  jubilee  for  the  colored  race 
close  at  hand  ?  A  hymn  flowed  out  in  harmonious  ca- 
dence, equal  in  volume  to  the  rolling  flood  of  the  Cumber- 
land. A  prayer  was  ofiered  with  great  earnestness  and 
unction,  and  the  preacher  had  chosen  his  text,  when  lo ! 
an  apparition  appeared  at  the  door — yes,  several  of  them  I 
A  guard  of  blue-coated  soldiers,  with  muskets,  entered, 
and  announced  to  the  startled  brethren  that  the  services 
of  the  evening  would  be  concluded  at  Fort  Negle}^  Out 
went  the  lights,  as  if  by  magic,  and  there  was  a  general 
dive  for  the  windows.  Shrieks,  howls,  and  imprecations 
went  forth  to  the  ears  of  darkness,  rendering  night  truly 
hideous.  Fancy  bonnets  were  mashed,  ribbons  were 
rumpled,  and  the  destruction  of  negro  finery  was  enor- 
mous. 

Some  reached  the  windows  and  crawled  out,  and  into 
the  hands  of  guards  who  were  waiting  outside.  The 
shepherd  of  the  flock  was  thus  caught,  it  is  said,  while 
making  a  dive  through  the  window,  head  first,  butting 
over  two  "  bold  soger  boys  "  as  he  came  out.  The  scene 
was  amusing  indeed.     And  the  aext  morning  it  was  still 


154  JOHN  morgan's  female  spy. 

slie  had  inspired,  they  served  to  weaken  it  materialiv, 
and  to  excite  doubts  as  to  the  truth  of  her  statements  and 
the  honesty  of  her  intentions.  Returning  to  his  hotel,  the 
note  from  Mrs.  Judd  there  awaiting  him  fully  confirmed 
his  previously-formed  opinions.  So  strong  were  they 
now,  and  so  solicitous  was  he  to  fathom  and  disclose  the 
mischief  which  he  felt  to  be  brewing,  that  he  again  went 
to  the  police  office  that  evening,  taking  the  note  with 
him,  and  exhibiting  it  to  the  authorities  there.  He  was 
advised  to  call  as  requested,  and  endeavor  to  ascertain 
her  true  character  and  designs.  lie  did  so,  and  found 
her  at  Mr.  Beaden's,  as  stated.  After  some  unimportant 
conversation,  she  said  to  him,  "Are  you  loyal?"  His 
decidedly  af&rmative  answer  she  construed  to  mean  that 
he  was  a  friend  to  the  South  and  ftworable  to  its  cause. 
It  may  here  be  explained  that,  though  Blj'the  at  his  first 
meeting  did  not  recognize  her,  she  at  once  remembered 
having  seen  him  at  Murfreesborough,  where  he  had  been 
detained  some  eight  or  nine  weeks  before  he  was  allowed 
to  proceed  to  Nashville.  As  he  seemed  while  there  to  be 
"under  no  restraint  whatever,  she  knew  nothing  of  his 
being  a  paroled  prisoner  and  a  Northern  man.  The  fact 
of  his  having  a  pass  from  General  Bragg,  taken  in  con- 
nection with  certain  remarks  casually  made  by  him,  was 
to  her  proof  positive  that  he  was  a  Southerner  and  a  rebel. 
To  this  ver}'-  natural  mistake  she  was  indebted  for  all  the 
misfortune  that  eventually  befell  her. 

Completely  self-deceived,  she  immediately  took  him 
into  her  confidence,  and  entered  upon  an  explanation  of 
her  business  and  plans.  She  was  going,  she  said,  to 
Louisville,  for  the  purpose  of  purchasing  quinine  and 
other  medicines  for  the  Southern  Confederacy,  together 
with  a  considerable  amount  of  dry  goods  and  groceries 
for  herself  and  others.  But  this  was  only  a  portion  of  her 
business,  and  of  no  importance  in  comparison  with  the 
remainder..  John  Morgan  was  about  to  make  a  raid  upon 
the  Louisville  and  Nashville  Eailroad,  and  was  only  wait- 


JOHN  morgan's  female  bpy.  155 

ino-  for  information  as  to  the  strength  of  the  garrisons  and 
the  disposition  of  troops  along  its  track,  necessary  to  de- 
termine the  most  available  point  of  attack.  This  infor- 
mation she  had  engaged  to  obtain  and  furnish  to  him  on 
her  return  to  Gallatin,  where  certain  of  his  men  were  to 
meet  her,  by  appointment,  on  a  fixed  day.  This  day  was 
now  at  hand;  and  accordingly  she  was  anxious  to  start 
for  Louisville  the  next  morning,  so  that  she  might  have 
ample  time  to  purchase  her  goods  and  be  back  to  Gallatin 
on  the  day  appointed.  Unfortunately,  however,  her  pass 
did  not  allow  her  to  leave  Nashville  until  the  morning 
after,  and  she  wished  he  would  try  and  exchange  it  for 
one  allowing  her  to  go  on  the  morrow.  Blj'the  oblig- 
ingly consented,  and  further  said  that,  as  it  would  save 
her  a  good  deal  of  trouble  in  Louisville,  he  would  get 
her  a  pass  to  go  and  return  as  far  as  Gallatin.  "With  the 
old  pass  he  immediately  went  a  third  time  to  the  office, 
stated  his  Avish,  and  related  the  conversation  that  had  . 
passed  between  himself  and  Mrs.  Judd.  Colonel  Trues- 
dail  gave  him  the  desired  pass,  and  insisted  upon  his  ac- 
companying her  to  Louisville,  at  the  same  time  instruct- 
ing him  to  atfbrd  her  every  facility  for  the  perfection  of 
her  plans,  but  to  neither  encourage  nor  restrain  her. 

Blythe  returned  with  the  new  pass  according  to  pro- 
mise. In  the  conversation  that  ensued  he  warned  her  of 
the  danger  of  the  business  she  was  about  to  embark  in, 
cautioning  her  as  to  the  watchfulness  of  the  Federal 
authorities,  and  endeavored  to  dissuade  her  therefrom. 
His  advice,  however,  though  well  meant  and  kindly 
enough  received,  was  of  no  avail.  It  was  her  duty,  she 
said,  to  do  all  that  she  could  for  the  South ;  and,  as 
they  were  God's  chosen  people,  she  was  not  afraid  of  any 
harm  befalling  her.  Seeing  that  she  was  determined  in 
her  purpose,  Blythe  affected  a  deep  solicitude  in  her  wel- 
fiire,  and  finally  told  her  he  would  postpone  his  business 
for  the  present  and  go  with  her  to  Louisville  then,  instead 
of  waiting  a  few  days,  as  he  had  intended.     It  would  b® 


156  JOHN  MORGAN'S  FEMALE  6PT 

a  great  accommodation,  as  Avell  as  pleasure,  to  him,  he 
remarked,  laughingly,  for  then  he  could  sit  with  her  in 
the  ladies'  car — no  small  matter  on  a  train  literally 
jammed  with  passengers,  as  that  one  usually  was.  Ma- 
dam was  highly  pleased  at  this  exhibition  of  kindness, 
and  with  many  thanks  endeavored  to  show  her  gratitude 
therefor.  Thenceforward  she  placed  implicit  confidence 
in  Blythe,  and  unreservedly  told  him  all  her  plans,  to- 
gether w'ith  much  of  her  past  history  and  experience. 
This  was  her  second  trip,  she  said.  The  previous  one 
had  been  quite  profitable  to  her,  and  had  enabled  her  to 
furnish  a  large  amount  of  valuable  information  to  the 
rebels. 

Throughout  the  entire  journey  to  Louisville  she  was 
ever  on  the  alert  for  the  smallest  scrap  of  information. 
At  every  station,  out  of  the  window  would  go  her  head, 
and  the  bystanders  be  plied  with  guarded  questions  con- 
cerning the  strength  of  the  place,  means  of  defence,  num- 
ber of  troops  and  names  of  regiments  there,  etc,  Blythe 
was  evidently  annoyed,  and  time  and  again  pulled  her 
dress,  begging  her  "  for  God's  sake  to  sit  down  and  keep 
quiet,"  or  she  would  attract  attention  and  ruin  both  her- 
self and  him.  She  replied  that  it  was  a  part — and  a  very 
important  part — of  her  business  to  observe,  make  inqui- 
ries, and  take  notes — she  must  do  it. 

At  Louisville  Blythe  paid  her  every  attention,  assisted 
her  in  her  purchases,  introduced  her  to  one  of  the  best 
dry  goods  houses  in  the  city,  and  went  Avith  her  to  New 
Albany,  where  she  bought  several  hundred  dollars'  worth 
of  drugs  and  medicines.  Here  she  was  well  acquainted 
■ — a  fact  which  she  explained  by  saying  that  she  had  made 
purchases  there  before.  These  drugs  she  intended  to  pack 
in  a  trunk  with  a  false  bottom,  but  was  told  by  Blythe 
that  it  would  not  be  necessary,  as  he  would  see  that  her 
trunk  was  passed  without  examination.  Occasionally  he 
would  absent  himself  for  several  hours,  accounting  for 
this  by  representing  that  he  was  engaged  in  buying  a 


JOHN  morgan's  female  SPY.  167 

large  stoelc  of  goods,  with  which  he  designed  returning 
immediately  to  Murfreesborougb.  One  day  he  was  taken 
quite  ill,  and  was  attended  and  nursed  by  her  in  the 
kindest  manner.  In  addition  to  her  confidence,  he  seemed 
now  to  have  gained  her  affections.  She  devoted  herself 
to  him  as  only  women  do  to  those  whom  they  love — an- 
ticipating his  slightest  wishes,  and  providing  for  his  every 
want  in  the  most  warm-hearted  and  loving  manner. 
Blythe's  pretended  sickness  was  soon  over,  but  it  left  him 
weak;  and  he  wished  her  to  remain  at  Louisville  another 
day.  No ;  she  could  not  stay.  Morgan's  men  had  made 
a  positive  engagement  to  meet  her  that  night  at  Gallatin, 
and  she  would  not  disappoint  them  for  the  world.  She 
was  to  tell  them,  then  and  there,  all  that  she  had  seen  and 
heard  down  the  road,  and  to  advise  them  where  to  tap  it. 
In  return,  they  were  to  assist  her  in  getting  her  trunks 
through  the  lines,  which  could  easily  be  done  by  putting 
them  in  the  bottom  of  the  wagon-bed  and  coveiing  them 
with  fodder.  Seeing  that  she  could  not  be  induced  to 
remain,  Blythe  determined  to  return  with  her.  Flattered 
by  this  mark  of  attention  and  appreciation,  she  was  highly 
delighted  and  more  affectionate  than  ever.  Arrangements 
were  at  once  made  for  the  journey,  BIj'the  in  the  mean- 
while visiting  General  Boyle,  explaining  the  whole  mat- 
ter to  him,  and  procuring  an  order  dispensing  with  the 
usual  examination  of  baggage  in  their  case,  and  also  tele- 
graphing to  Colonel  Truesdail,  at  Nashville,  to  have 
them  arrested  at  Mitchellsville,  just  before  reaching  Gal- 
latin. 

On  the  way  back  she  was  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and 
could  hardly  refrain  from  frequent  exhibitions  of  her 
elation  at  the  success  of  their  schemes.  Blythe  begged 
her  to  be  careful,  or  she  would  expose  herself  and  him 
to  ruin.  "  You  know,"  said  he,  "  if  anything  should 
happen  to  you  it  will  get  me  into  trouble,  and  that  would 
make  you  feel  bad;  wouldn't  it?"  He  asked  if  she 
was  not  afraid  of  being  watched — if  she  did  not  ihinie 


1 53  JOHN  morgan's  female  spy. 

slie  "was  already  suspected — seeking  by  this  means  to 
prepare  her  mind  for  the  arrest  wliich  was  soon  to  occur, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  allay  any  suspicions  she  might 
otherwise  entertain  of  his  complicit}'  therein.  She  replied 
that  she  was,  and  that  there  was  then  in  that  very  car  a  per- 
son whom  she  believed  to  be  watching  her.  She  betrayed 
considerable  anxiety,  and  seemed  quite  uneasy  about  the 
matter  for  some  time,  but  finally  fell  into  her  usual  care- 
less mood.  At  Mitchellsville  she  took  on  board  two  large 
trunks  of  goods  and  clothing,  left  there  on  her  former 
trip  because  of  her  having  had  too  many  to  get  safely 
away  at  that  time  Avithout  exciting  suspicion. 

Just  after  leaving  Mitchellsville,  Blythe  said  to  her, 
"Now,  this  is  a  dangerous  business  you  are  in  ;  and  3^ou 
may  not  get  through.  At  Gallatin  I  shall  leave  you,  but 
will  go  straight  through  to  Murfreesborough  ;  and  if  you 
have  any  word  to  send,  I  will  take  it  with  pleasure  to 
anybody  you  may  name."  In  reply  she  wished  he  would 
see  lieutenant  Hawkins  and  tell  him  that  she  had  arrived 
safely  at  Gallatin  with  her  goods,  but  that  there  Avas  a 
larger  force  there  than  she  had  expected  to  find,  and  she 
might  be  troubled  in  getting  out ;  or  if  lieutenant  Haw- 
kins was  not  then  at  Murfreesborough,  he  might  tell  any 
of  Morgan's  men,  and  their  general  would  be  sure  to  get 
the  news  and  devise  some  means  for  her  assistance.  At 
this  time,  as  well  as  on  previous  occasions,  she  seemed  to 
be  on  very  intimate  terms  with  ^Morgan  and  to  rely  im- 
plicitly upon  him  and  his  followers.  She  further  informed 
Blythe  that  her  home  was  in  AV^inchester,  Tennessee,  but 
that  she  was  on  her  way  to  Atlanta,  Georgia,  Avhere  her 
son  had  a  situation  in  the  Ordnance  department,  and  that 
the  knitting-machine  purchased  by  her  was  intended  as 
a  pattern  for  the  manufacture  of  others,  there  being  no- 
thing of  the  kind  in  the  South. 

This  conversation  was  scarcely  concluded  when  both 
were  arrested,  and  Blythe — according  to  previous  arrange- 
ment— roughly  handled.     Mrs.  Judd  turned  very  paH 


JOHN  morgan's  female  spy.  159 

and  was  strangely  excited ;  though  she  seemed  more  af- 
fected by  Biythe's  situation  and  danger  than  her  OAvn. 
Blythe,  however,  seemed  to  take  it  coolly  enough,  and  as 
a  matter  of  course — which  but  the  more  increased  the 
sorrow  of  Mrs.  Judd,  it  being  for  her  only  that  he  had 
thus  ventured  and  lost.  But  regrets  were  useless  now, 
and  both  were  brought  on  to  Nashville  at  once.  Mrs. 
Judd  was  put  under  guard  at  a  hotel,  and  assured  that 
Blythe  would  be  hung  the  next  morning.  At  this  intel- 
lig-ence  she  became  quite  distracted,  begged  and  implored 
to  be  heard  in  his  favor,  asserting  with  broken  voice  and 
tearful  e3^es  that  he  was  an  innocent  man,  and  that  the 
guilt  and  blame  of  the  whole  transaction  were  hers  alone. 
Making  no  impression  upon  those  about  her,  she  went  so 
far  as  to  write  and  send  to  head-quarters  a  petition  that 
he  might  be  spared  from  a  punishment  he  did  not  de- 
serve. Blythe,  of  course,  was  released  at  once ;  but  she 
did  not  know  it,  and  to  this  day  remains  ignorant  of  his 
real  fate  and  location.  Her  baggage  was  examined  and 
found  to  contain  many  hundred  dollars'  worth  of  contra- 
band goods — unquestionable  evidences  of  her  guilt. 
Among  its  contents  was  a  Bible,  with  Blythe's  name 
written  in  it  by  herself,  which  she  had  purchased  in 
Louisville,  intending  to  present  it  to  him  when  they  should 
meet  again  in  Murfreesborough. 

The  circumstances,  when  known,  created  not  a  little 
excitement  in  army  circles,  and  the  case  was  personally 
examined  by  the  general  commanding  and  his  staS".  The 
crime  was  the  holiest  known  to  military  law ;  the  import- 
ance of  the  consequences  involved  in  the  success  or  defeat 
of  the  scheme,  almost  incalculable.  In  short,  it  was  one  of 
those  little  pivots  on  which  the  fortunes  of  a  campaign 
or  the  fate  of  an  army  might  turn.  For  such  an  offence 
the  only  adequate  punishment  was  death  ;  but  the  person 
implicated  was  a  woman ;  and  that  reverence  for  the  sex 
which  brave  men  ever  feel  would  not  allow  the  applica- 
tion of  so  extreme  a  penalty.     To  pass  her  lightly  by, 


160  INCIDENTS  OF  GRIERSON's  RAID. 

however,  could  not  be  reconciled  with  a  sense  of  dntj; 
and  it  was  deemed  necessary  to  make  an  example  of  her, 
bj  confining  her  in  the  military  prison  at  Alton,  Illinois, 
during  the  war. 


DTOIDENTS  OP  GEIESSOFS  EAID. 

Upon  one  occasion,  as  the  Union  scouts  were  feeding 
their  horses  at  the  stables  of  a  wealthy  planter  of  seces- 
sion proclivities,  the  proprietor  looking  on,  apparently 
deeply  interested  in  the  proceeding,  suddenly  burst  out 
with — 

"  Well  boys,  I  can't  say  I  have  anything  against  you, 
I  don't  know  but  that  on  the  whole  I  rather  like  you. 
You  have  not  taken  anything  of  mine  except  a  little  corn 
for  your  horses,  and  that  you  are  welcome  to.  I  have 
heard  of  you  all  over  the  country.  You  are  doing  the 
boldest  thing  ever  done.  But  you'll  be  trapped,  though  ; 
you'll  be  trapped,  mark  me." 

At  another  place,  where  the  men  thought  it  advisable 
to  represent  themselves  as  Jackson's  cavalry,  a  whole 
company  was  very  graciously  entertained  by  a  strong 
secession  lady,  who  insisted  on  whipping  a  negro  because 
he  did  not  bring  the  hoecakes  fast  enough. 

On  one  occasion,  seven  of  Colonel  Grierson's  scouts 
stopped  at  the  house  of  a  wealthy  planter  to  feed  their 
jaded  horses.  Upon  ascertaining  that  he  had  been  doing 
a  little  guerrilla  business  on  his  own  account,  our  men 
encouraged  him  to  the  belief  that,  as  they  were  the  in- 
vincible Van  Dorn  cavalry,  they  Avould  soon  catch  the 
Yankees.  The  secession  gentleman  heartily  approved 
of  what  he  supposed  to  be  their  intentions,  and  enjoined 
upon  them  the  necessity  of  making  as  rapid  marches  as 
possible.  As  the  men  had  discovered  two  splendid  car- 
riage horses  in  the  planter's  stable,  thej  thought  under 


EDDY  McFADDEN.  161 

the  circumstances,  they  would  be  justified  in  making  an 
exchange,  which  they  accordingly  proceeded  to  do. 

As  they  were  taking  the  saddles  from  their  own  tired 
steeds  and  placing  thetn  on  the  backs  of  the  wealthy 
guerrilla's  horses,  the  proprietor  discovered  them,  and  at 
cnce  objected.  He  was  met  with  the  reply  that,  as  he 
was  anxious  the  Yankees  should  be  speedily  overtaken, 
those  after  them  should  have  good  horses. 

"  All  right,  gentlemen,"  said  the  planter ;  "  I  will  keep 
your  animals  until  you  return.  I  suppose  you'll  be  back 
in  two  or  three  days  at  the  furthest.  When  you  return 
you'll  find  they  have  been  well  cared  for." 

The  soldiers  were  sometimes  asked  where  they  got 
their  blue  coats.  They  always  replied,  if  they  were 
travelling  under  the  name  of  Van  Dorn's  cavalry,  that 
they  took  them  at  Holly  Springs  of  the  Yankees.  This 
always  excited  great  laughter  among  the  secessionists. 
The  scouts,  however,  usually  wore  the  regular  "  secesh" 
uniforms. 


EDDY  McPADDM. 

'Two  days  after  the  battle  of  Shiloh,  says  Ge6.  Rous- 
seau, I  walked  into  the  hospital  tent  on  the  ground  where 
the  fiercest  contest  had  taken  place,  and  where  many  of 
our  men  and  those  of  the  enemy  had  fallen.  The  hos- 
pital was  exclusively  for  the  wounded  rebels,  and  they 
were  laid  thickly  around.  Many  of  them  were  Kentucki- 
ans,  of  Breckinridge's  command.  As  I  stepped  into 
the  tent,  and  spoke  to  some  one,  I  was  addressed  by  a 
voice,  the  childish  tone  of  which  arrested  my  attention — 

'•  That's  General  Rousseau  I  General,  I  knew  your  son 
Dickey.     Where  is  Dick?    I  knew  him  very  well." 

Turning  to  him,  I  saw  stretched  on  the  ground  a  hand- 
some boy  about  sixteen  years  of  age.  His  face  was  a 
bright  one,  but  the  hectic  glow  and  flush  on  the  cheeks, 
11 


162  A  BRAVE  BOY  AND  A  GALLANT  SAILOR. 

his  restless  manner,  and  his  grasping  and  catching  his 
breath  as  he  spoke,  aLarmed  me.  I  knelt  by  his  side  and 
pressed  his  fevered  brow  with  my  hand,  and  would  have 
taken  the  child  into  my  arms,  if  I  could. 

"  And  who  are  you,  my  son  ?"  said  I. 

"  Why,  I  am  Eddy  McFadden,  from  Louisville,"  was 
the  reply.  "I  know  you,  General,  and  I  know  your  son 
Dick.     I've  played  with  him.     Where  is  Dick?" 

I  thought  of  my  own  dear  boy,  of  what  might  have 
befallen  him;  that  he,  too,  deluded  by  villains,  might, 
like  this  poor  boy,  have  been  mortally  wounded,  among 
strangers,  and  left  to  die.  My  heart  bled  for  the  poor 
child ;  for  he  was  a  child ;  my  manhood  gave  way,  and 
burning  tears  attested,  in  spite  of  me,  my  intense  suffer- 
ing. I  asked  him  of  his  father;  he  had  no  father.  Your 
mother  ?     Pie  had  no  mother.     Brothers  and  sisters  ? 

"  I  have  a  brother,"  said  he.  "  I  never  knew  what 
soldiering  was.  I  was  but  a  boy,  and  they  got  me  off* 
down  here." 

He  was  shot  through  the  shoulder  and  lungs.  I  asked 
him  what  he  needed.  He  said  he  was  cold  and  the  ground 
was  hard.  I  had  no  tent  nor  blankets ;  our  bagarage  was 
all  in  the  rear  at  Savannah.  But  I  sent  the  poor  boy  my 
saddle-blanket,  and  returned  the  next  morning  with 
lemons  for  him  and  the  rest ;  but  his  brother  in  the  Second 
Kentucky  regiment,  had  taken  him  over  to  his  regiment 
to  nurse  him.  I  never  saw  the  child  again.  He  died  in 
a  day  or  two.  Peace  to  his  ashes.  I  never  think  of  this 
incident  that  I  do  not  fill  up  as  if  he  were  my  own  child. 


BEAVE  EOT  AND  A  GALLANT  SAILOE. 

One  of  the  powder  boys  on  the  Bienville,  Wm.  Henry 
Steele  by  name,  deserves  particular  attention.  He  is  only 
fourteen  years  old,  a  bright,  active  fellow,  and  performed 
his  duties  with  signal  bravery.     It  was  his  duty  to  hand 


A  bra\t:  boy  and  a  gallant  sailor.  163 

cartridges  to  one  of  the  gunners.  "While  the  Bienville 
was  in  the  thickest  of  the  engagement,  the  balls  whistled 
fiercely  over  the  deck  and  splashed  about  in  the  water, 
but  he  never  wavered.  A  large  rifled  shot  struck  the 
water  some  distance  from  the  steamer,  bounded  upward, 
and  crashing  through  the  beam,  tore  through  the  bodies 
of  two  men  standing  near  him  at  his  gun,  and  wounded 
two  others.  He  handed  his  cartridge  to  the  gunner,  and 
stepping  over  the  bodies,  brought  a  fresh  supply  of  am- 
munition, with  which  he  continued  his  labors. 

After  the  fight.  Captain  Steedman,  in  thanking  his  men 
for  their  noble  conduct,  especially  commended  the  bravery 
of  young  Steele.  During  a  part  of  the  time  the  Bienville 
was  the  mark  for  almost  the  entire  fire  of  both  rebel  bat- 
teries, and  her  crew  displayed  the  greatest  heroism.  The 
first  shot  fired  at  her  struck,  and  was  one  of  the  most 
serious.  Her  guns  were  in  such  constant  use  that  they 
became  hot,  and  almost  leaped  from  the  deck  at  each 
discharge.  It  is  really  wonderful  that  her  damage  is  so 
very  immaterial.  Beyond  a  hole  between  decks,  another 
through  the  beam,  just  at  the  lower  part  of  the  gunwale, 
a  cut  shroud  and  a  battered  stove-pipe  (not  smoke-stack), 
she  is  unharmed.         , 

The  Wabash  also  came  in  for  a  large  share  of  the  fight. 
A  cannon-shot  passed  along  her  deck,  and  struck  Thomas 
Jackson,  the  coxswain.  The  ball  nearly  carried  away 
one  of  his  legs,  leaving  it  so  that  it  hung  only  by  shreds 
of  flesh  and  skin.  Leaning  against  a  gun,  he  drew  out 
his  sheath-knife,  and  tried  to  cut  it  off  entirely.  The 
knife  was  too  dull,  and  his  shipmates  hastened  to  him, 
and  carried  him  below.  He  kept  continually  asking 
how  .the  fight  progressed,  saying,  "  I  hope  we'll  win  ;  I 
hope  we'll  beat  them."  He  died  in  two  hours,  his  lust 
words  expressing  happiness  that  he  had  done  something 
for  his  country. 


164  CHARACTERISTIC  INCIDENT. 


CHAEACTEEISTIO  nrOIDENT.  ' 

An  incident  of  adventure  characteristic  of  the  Anderson 
Zouaves,  and  of  rigorous  barbarism  characteristic  of  the 
blood-earnest  warfare  of  these  rebels.  One  day,  Henry 
Oehl,  of  company  G,  Anderson  Zouaves,  with  a  comrade 
went  forward  to  a  distant  farm  house,  to  get  information 
and  enlarge  his  topographical  knowledge  of  Virginia. 
The  farmer  came  into  the  yard,  and  a  conversation  sprang 
up  between  the  thi-ee. 

"  Suddenly,"  said  Oehl,  "  twenty  rebel  soldiers  rose  like 
ghosts  from  the  edge  of  the  woods  just  beyond  the  house, 
and  rushed  towards  us,  calling  to  us  to  surrender.  Not 
being  much  in  that  line  of  business,  we  raised  our  pieces 
and  let  fly  at  them."  They  returned  the  fire.  A  ball 
struck  Oehl's  right  hand,  knocked  his  musket  out  of  it, 
and  entered  the  abdomen  at  the  centre,  and  went  out  at 
the  left  side.  To  run  had  now  become  a  duty.  Oehl 
doubled  the  corner  of  the  house,  and  made  for  the  nearest 
recesses  of  the  White  Oak  Swamp,  via  a  corn-field,  and 
the  bushy  covers  of  a  line  of  old  rail-fence.  The  chase 
was  a  keen  one.  ^ 

Oehl's  coolness,  cunning,  and  courage  saved  him.  Em- 
bosomed in  the  swamp,  he  watched  his  own  hurt,  and 
plugged  the  wound  through  his  abdomen  with  his  fingers. 
Soon  he  saw  his  pursuers  return  to  the  house,  talk  a 
moment  with  the  farmer,  and  gesticulate  forcibly  to  the 
doomed  man.  Some  seized  him,  and  some  entered  his 
house.  The  hidden  Zouave  was  near  enough  to  the  build- 
ing to  catch  the  sounds  within  of  the  shrieking  of  children. 
Immediately  these  rushed  out  of  the  door,  followed  by  a 
smoke,  and  soon  by  a  flame.  The  ruffians  burned  tho 
Virginian's  house  over  his  head,  for  the  crime  of  talking 
with  Northern  soldiers  who  entered  his  yard. 


BALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DE■^^L  BILL.  165 


SALLIE  EIOHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL 

The.  falls  of  the  New  River  are  very  frag'^ant;  the 
water  thunders  down  towards  the  Gauley  from  one  preci- 
pice to  another,  almost  coutinually ;  pausing  but  a  mo- 
ment at  the  feet  of  its  wild  leaps,  in  boiling  caldrons,  as 
if  bewildered,  and  awaiting  strength  for  new  and  wilder 
leaps.  Throughout  its  entire  course  in  Virginia,  there 
are  but  a  few  rods  of  calm  water.  At  these  points  are 
fords  or  ferries,  usually  the  latter.  For  one  hundred 
miles  from  the  mouth  of  New  River  there  are  but  three 
good  ferries,  and  of  course  are  known  far  and  near, 
throughout  the  country.  The  first  is  Richmond  Ferry, 
and  seventy-five  miles  from  the  falls  of  the  Gauley.  The 
other  two  are  known  as  Pacli:'s  Upper  and  Lower  Ferry. 
These  ferries,  then,  are  the  only  means  of  intercourse 
between  the  valleys  north  and  south  of  the  river,  and 
necessary  points  of  occupation  to  an  army  operating  on 
both  sides  of  the  river.  Yet  the  rough  mountain  roads 
will  not  admit  of  sufficient  transportation  to  subsist  any 
considerable  number  of  troops,  and  the  Federal  forces 
sought  to  maintain  control  of  the  ferries,  by  frequently 
sending  scouting  parties  to  them  and  their  neighborhoods, 
while  the  rebel  •'  bushwackers,"  and  guerrilla  parties,  for 
the  same  purpose,  hovered  continually  around  them. 

While  affairs  stood  thus,  my  regiment  was  ordered  to 
Raleigh  C.  H.  We  found  the  House  of  the  Court  perfo- 
rated with  loop-holes,  and  every  brick  dwelling  in  the 
village  converted  into  an  embrasured  fortification,  with 
look  out  and  all  appurtenances  of  a  besieged  city.  Our 
troops  had  been  threatened  by  the  rebels  from  Richmond 
Ferry,  during  the  winter,  and  these  precautions  had  been 
taken  in  anticipation.  Shortly  after  our  arrival  at  Raleigh 
C.  H.,  Capt.  Warner,  of  Union  County,  was  detailed  with 
one  hundred  picked  men — among  whom  were  many  of 
the  Jerome  and  Belle  Point  boys — to  visit  Richmond 


166  SALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL. 

Ferry,  and  cut  off  the  retreat  of  a  body  of  guerrillas,  who 
had  made  a  raid  on  the  north  side  of  the  river,  to  destroy 
rebel  property,  and  take  as  prisoners,  or  kill  all  suspi- 
cious characters  in  the  neighborhood.  Towards  the  close 
of  the  first  day  the  command  neared  the  river.  Advance 
and  flanking  parties  were  thrown  out  from  the  main  body, 
and  the  troops  moved  down  from  the  mountain  toward 
the  ferry.  A  large  opening  suddenly  burst  mto  view 
and  the  large  bottom  farm  of  the  proprietor  of  the  ferry 
lay  stretched  out  before  them.  Presently  Eichmond  him- 
self came  out  to  meet  them.  He  was  a  tall  athletic  man, 
and  past  the  meridian  of  life ;  he  carried  a  long  and  heavy 
rifle  on  his  shoulder  and  a  large  hunter's  knife  dangled 
from  the  strap  of  his  deer-skin  bullet  pouch. 

"  Hellow,  thar,"  said  he  on  nearing  us,  "  who  are  you  ?" 

"  Federal  troops,  sir,"  answered  the  captain, 

"  Well,  I  reckoned  so  the  moment  I  sot  my  eyes  on 
them  thar  blue  coats  of  your'n,     Whar  you  goin'  ?" 

"  Down  to  the  ferry,  sir," 

"  Come  along,  then ;  old  Eichmond's  the  very  man  you 
are  huntin'  for,  eh  ?" 

"  Yes ;  are  you  Eichmond  ?" 

"  I  reck'n  I  am." 

"  They  tell  me  you  are  a  true  Union  man,  Mr.  Rich- 
mond ?" 

"  Well,  I  reck'n  thar  ain't  ary  better  one  in  these  moun- 
tains than  old  Sam  Eichmond,  unless  it  be  my  boy  Bill, 
'Devil  Bill;'  you've  hear'n  of  him  up  thar  at  Ealeigh  G. 
H.,  I  reck'n  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  the  captain.    "  Lead  on,  Mr.  Richmond.'' 

The  old  man  took  the  trail  down  the  mountain,  fol- 
lowed by  the  captain  and  his  men.  They  shortly  came 
to  the  cleared  field  through  which  the  path  led  down  to 
the  •'  Eichmond  House."  As  they  approached  the  old 
man's  dwelling,  a  young  lady,  of  apparently  "  two  score 
seasons,"  came  out  to  meet  them ;  the  old  man  in  his  off 
hand,  rude  way,  said,  "  Well,  Sallie,  here's  Capt.  Warner 


SALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL.  167 

and  some  troops,  come  down  to  the  ferry  '  on  business ;' 
the  captain  is  tired  and  hungry;  get  us  some  supper,  for 
more  than  likely  thar'll  be  something  for  us  to  do,  soon, 
eh,  captain?" 

"  Yes,  if  our  scouts  drive  down  that  party  of  scoundrels 
upon  Blue  Stone,  they  will  come  here  to  cross,  and  we 
must  be  on  the  lookout  for  them,  and  assist  them  in 
crossing  a  much  darker  stream  than  New  River." 

•'  That's  it,"  said  the  old  man ;  "  come  in,  captain." 

Sallie  speedily  "spread  the  cloth  and  set  the  table," 
then  turning  to  Captain  Warner,  she  said,  "Set  up,  cap- 
tain, supper  is  ready;  we  boarded  Gen.  Floyd  four  weeks 
last  fall,  and  he  sat  in  that  same  chair  and  at  that  same 
table,  day  after  day ;  we  are  glad  to  change  boarders." 
Sallie  waited  on  the  table,  and  then,  attracted  by  some 
noise,  went  to  the  door. 

"  Some  one  over  thar,"  she  said,  pointing  towards  the 
river ;  "  hollered  twice,  then  once,  then  twice." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  old  man,  "  that's  our  signal,  cap- 
tain ;  I'll  go  down  and  bring  the  man  over." 

"  I'll  go  myself,"  said  Sallie,  and  she  was  off  instantly. 
The  old  man  sat  down  again  at  the  table,  and  turning  to 
the  captain,  he  said — 

"  Good  girl,  that  thar  Sallie." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  answered  the  captain, 

"  Them's  her'n,"  and  the  old  man  pointed  to  a  double- 
barrelled  shotgun  and  cartridge-box,  suspended  on  hooks 
from  the  wall. 

"  Does  she  use  them  ?"  asked  the  captain. 

"Indeed  she  does,  sir;  and  I  reckon  as  how  she  ain't 
afear'd  lo,  either.  A  soldier  gave  her  the  box,  and  my 
Bill  gave  her  the  gun.  He  took  it  from  a  secesher. 
You've  hear'n  of  '  Devil  Bill'  up  to  Raleigh  Court  House, 
eh?" 

"  Yes,  I've  heard  of  him." 

Sallie  shortly  after  entered  the  house  with  the  stranger 
she  had  rowed  across  the  river.     He  was  dressed  in  th» 


168  SALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL, 

Lome-made  butternut  style,  with  fringed  trimmings  on 
his  hunting-shirt,  and  accoutred  like  Richmond,  The 
old  man  greeted  him  warmly,  and  introduced  him  to  the 
captain  as  "  one  of  the  Union  men"  who  had  stood  by 
him  in  several  scrapes  he  had  with  the  "bushwhackers 
and  guerrillas,  and  there  are  several  more  of  'em,  true 
blue ;  how  would  you  like  'em  to  come  down  and  give 
us  a  lift  to-night,  eh?" 

"  Very  much,  Mr,  Richmond ;  tell  them  all  to  come," 
said  the  captain. 

The  old  man  said  a  few  words  in  a  low  tone  to  the 
stranger,  who  shortly  after  left  the  house  and  took  a 
path  down  the  river,  and  was  almost  immediately  out  of 
sight. 

The  captain  went  out  to  visit  his  pickets,  and  the  old 
man  went  with  him,  and  at  his  suggestion  new  posts 
w^ere  located,  a  few  old  ones  abandoned,  and  others 
strengthened.  They  returned  to  the  house  confident 
and  expectant.  About  nine  o'clock  the  sentinel  at  the 
door  cried  out  "  Who  goes  there  ?"  The  captain  and 
Richmond  hastened  out ;  six  armed  men  stood  out  in  the 
field  but  a  short  distance  from  the  sentinel,  who  had 
cocked  his  musket  and  "  covered"  the  party, 

"  Friends !"  said  one  of  the  men. 

"  That's  so,"  said  Richmond  ;  "  come  on,  boys," 

"  Let  them  come,  sentinel,"  said  the  captain ;  and  the 
party  came  up, 

"  AH  right  ?"  asked  the  old  man. 

"  Yes,"  said  one  of  the  men,  "  and  more  of  our  boys 
down  thar  comin'." 

They  all  went  into  the  house  and  gathered  around  the 
fire.  The  new  comers  were  dressed  like  the  stranger,  in 
suits  of  butternut,  and  fringed  hunting-shirts,  and  each 
bore  a  heavy  rifle,  a  knife,  and  pouch.  As  each  sat  down 
he  drew  from  his  pouch  a  pipe  of  the  hemlock  root,  filled 
it  with  tobacco,  lighted  it,  and  silently  awaited  events. 
The  challenge  of  the  sentinel  became  more  and  more  fre- 


* 


BALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL.  169 

quent.  until  full  twenty  of  Eiclimond's  men  had  come  in, 
and  then  it  ceased  altogether.  They  Avere  strange-look- 
ing  men,  and  as  they  gathered  round  the  old  hearth-stone, 
with  their  long  rifles,  their  knives  and  pipes,  and  dressed 
in  uniform  suits  of  butternut,  and  fringed  hunting-shirts, 
they  presented  a  picture  one  might  do  well  to  study — a 
picture  one  might  go  back  a  century  to  find  a  counterpart 
for,  and  one  from  which  a  few  steps — to  the  troops  outside — 
would,  like  Rip  Van  AVinkle,  take  you  a  century  ahead. 
After  midnight  the  captain  and  Richmond  again  visited 
the  pickets.  Everything  was  quiet,  and  they  returned 
to  Richmond's  house.  The  old  man  loaded  his  pipe,  and 
the  two  sat  down  by  the  fire. 

"You  say  your  son  Bill  is  up  at  Raleigh  C.  H.,  Mr. 
Richmond?"  said  the  captain. 

"  Yes,  '  Devil  Bill,'  they  call  him,  in  these  mountains  ;  I 
reckon  you're  hearin'  of  him  up  there  to  Raleigh  C.  H., 
captain  ?" 

"  Yes,  he  was  taken  once  by  the  rebels,  I  believe." 
"  Yes  he  war,  an'  I'll  tell  you  how,  captain,  though  it's 
a  long  story,  and  may  be  you  won't  like  to  hear  it  all  ?" 
"  Oh  yesj"  said  the  captain,  "  go  on,  by  all  means,  Mr. 
Richmond." 

"  Well,  ever  since  the  seceshers  got  to  carryin'  on  so, 
Bill  has  been  sot  agin  'em,  and  me  and  neighbor  Boggs, 
and  Bill,  and  these  other  fellars  here  to-night,  would  come 
here  and  meet  in  my  barn.  Well,  we  determined  to  fight 
if  they  disturbed  us;  we  said  fight,  and  we  meant  it, 
captain  ;  there  ain't  a  single  Richmond,  male  or  female, 
that  won't  fight." 

"  I  believe  it,"  said  the  captain,  as  he  turned  his  eyes 
to  the  shotgun  and  cartridge  box  against  the  wall. 

"Well,"  continued  the  old  man,  "the  seceshers  got 
quite  impudent,  and  as  it  took  some  time  to  gather  our 
band  together,  they  attempted  to  cut  us  off'  singly ;  but 
we  got  wind  of  it,  and  night  after  night  I  got  into 
my  boat  and  went  down  the  rapids  to  the  '  island,'  for 


170  SALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL. 

safety.  One  night  thej  came  to  the  house  here,  I  war  on 
the  island,  and  Sallie  an'  the  old  ■woman  war  alone. 
They  tried  to  frighten  Sallie,  to  make  her  tell  whar  I  war, 
but  she  got  mad,  and  war  for  pitchin'  in  to  fight  'em,  sin- 
gle-handed, and  so  soon  after  they  went  away.  At  length 
Bill,  and  several  of  these  fellars  had  to  leave  'kase  Floyd's 
men  war  'round  thick,  and  it  war  no  use  to  fight  then, 
agin  so  many ;  so  they  took  to  the  brush,  and  'riz  the 
mountain'  back  here,  on  their  way  to  Pinch  Gut  Creek. 

"  Well,  they  were  gone  more'n  a  month,  and  we  begin  to 
git  oneasy  'bout  'em.  So  Sallie  said  she'd  find  'em  out, 
and  taking  a  basket  of  '  pone,'  and  shouldering  her  gun, 
and  sticking  my  pistol  in  her  belt,  she  riz  the  mountain 
back  here  and  started  toward  Punch  Gut  Creek,  She 
travelled  on  until  noon,  when  she  came  to  the  creek, 
'bout  ten  miles  from  here,  I  reckon,  and  hunted  up  and 
down  a  good  while,  every  now  and  then  calling  for  Bill. 
But  she  couldn't  find  him,  nor  ary  one  of  the  other  fellars, 
but  she  kept  on  huntin',  and  at  last  she  thought  she  would 
fire  ofi:'  the  pistol.  Well,  Bill  hear'n  it,  and  sa3-s  he  to 
John,  thar,"  and  Richmond  pointed  to  one  of  the  sleeping 
Virginians,  "  '  there,  that's  dad's  pistol,  John ;'  and  you  see 
John  had  something  of  a  liking  for  Sallie,  so  says  he  to 
Bill,  '  and  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  war  Sallie,  comin' 
out  to  find  us,  so  just  hide  in  here  and  I'll  holler,'  Well, 
he  hoUored,  and  Sallie  knew  the  voice  mighty  quick,  I 
reckon,  and  soon  found  them  under  a  big  rock ;  after 
sharing  among  them  her  '  pone,'  and  giving  them  words 
of  comfort  and  cheer,  she  left  them.  She  left  them,  and 
came  back  home  that  same  night  'bout  ten,  I  reckon. 

"  Well,  after  Floyd  went  away,  the  bushwhackers  were 
worse  than  ever,  but  Bill  nor  me  didn't  fear  'em.  So  Bill 
and  the  boys  came  back,  and  the  seceshers  hearin'  on  it,  I 
reckon,  they  thought  they  had  a  fine  chance  now  to  'rub  us 
out,'  So  they  came  down  to  the  river  at  night,  intendin'  to 
cross  over  in  the  mornin'  early.  But  we  heard  they  war 
j.comin',  and  we  jest  called  in  all  these  here  boys,  and 


BALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL.  ITl 

some  other  fellers  came  along,  'kase  Floyd  had  retreated, 
and  they  wanted  to  be  thought  good  Union  men,  for  fear 
of  voa  Yankees,  So  they  came  too,  and  we  put  out  some 
of  the  boys  to  watch,  and  slept  in  the  barn  all  night. 
Well,  'bout  daylight,  I  thought  I  saw  a  secesher,  on 
t'other  side  of  the  river,  fixin'  a  canoe  to  cross  over  in ; 
so  says  I  to  John,  'Your  eyes  are  young,  can  you  see  ary 
secesher  cross  the  river?'  But  'bout  that  time  I  seed 
them  plain  enough  myself,  so  I  just  ran  out  round  the 
barn  to  get  a  good  sight  on  'em.  Well,  sir,  the  whole 
gang  let  drive  at  me,  and  the  balls  whistled  awfully 
against  the  barn.  Bill  an'  John,  and  these  fellers  here, 
came  out,  and  we  got  a  little  nearer  the  seceshers,  and 
peppered  away  at  them,  shot  for  shot.  But  the  new  fel- 
lers that  came  down  to  help  us  took  to  the  brush  and  riz 
the  mountain.  Well,  we  kept  afiring  till  long  after, 
breakfast,  whenever  we  could  see  the  shadow  of  a  se- 
cesher on  t'other  bank.  After  a  while,  Sallie  put  some- 
thing for  us  to  eat  in  a  basket  and  wound  'round  the 
mountain  to  whar  them  new  fellers  war,  and  wanted  one 
of  'em  to  bring  it  down  to  us,  but  nary  one  would  come, 
and  Sallie  jist  threw  her  shotgun  on  her  shoulder,  and 
says  she,  '  I'll  go  myself,  then,  3'ou  cowards !'  They  told 
her  she'd  get  killed  if  she  did,  for  the  balls  was  jist  hailin* 
all  over  the  bottom.  But  Sallie  never  minded  'em  a  bit, 
and  came  right  on;  several  shots  were  fired  as  she  came 
down,  but  none  hit  her,  and  Sallie  had  the  satisfaction  to 
see  us  eat  our  breakfasts  in  that  old  corn  crib  out  thar, 
which  we  used  as  a  fort;  pretty  good  one,  I  reckon, 
warn't  it,  captain  ?" 

"  Very  good,"  answered  the  captain ;  "  were  any  of  vou 
hit?" 

"  Some  of  the  boys  got  little  scratches,  but  none  were 
killed.  Sallie  Avas  in  high  dudgeon  about  them  *  new 
fellers,'  and  we  seed  she  war  mad ;  so  John  thar  pointed 
out  a  secesher,  cross  the  river,  and  she  blazed  away  Avith 
her  shot-gun  at  him,  but  I  reckon  the  thing  didn't  carry 


1*12  SALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL. 

more'n  half  way,  'kase  you  see,  captain,  'twere  nigh  onto 
two  hundred  yards,  I  reckon.  Well,  'bout  noon^the  se- 
ceshers  drew  oftj  an'  that's  the  last  big  time  we've  had 
down  here,  captain.  The  corn-crib  was  pretty  well  bat- 
tered with  the  balls,  and  the  roof  looked  more  like  a  'corn 
sieve,'  than  a  'corn  shed.' 

"  Three  balls  struck  the  house :  here,  one  went  through 
right  thar,"  said  the  old  man,  pointing  to  the  shivered 
window-sash,  "  and  went  out  through  that  door  thar ;  one 
tore  that  hole  in  the  door  cheek  thar;  and  another  went 
through  and  through  the  puncheon."  The  old  man 
lighted  his  pipe,  and  remained  silent  and  thoughtful 
some  time. 

"  Well,  about  Bill,"  prompted  our  captain,  "  you  haven't 
told  me  how  he  was  taken,  yet." 

.  "Just  come  to  that  very  point,  captain,  and  now  I'll 
tell  you  how  it  all  war.  Bill  were  allers  a  venturesome 
chap,  and  willin'  to  fight  anything  from  a  'cap'  down  to 
nothin'.  So  the  folks  round  here  got  to  callin'  him  'Devil 
Bill'.  I  reckon  you've  hearn  of  him  up  to  Ealeigh  C.  H., 
captain." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  thar  war  a  company  of  Jenkinses  Cavalry  up 
here  at  'Jumpin  Branch,'  on  the  road  to  Pack's  lower  ferry, 
and  last  winter  they  killed  three  of  your  men  who  were 
out  on  a  scout,  an'  so  Bill  thought  he  would  jist  go  up 
thar  an'  see  what  they  war  doin',  bein'  as  how  they  war 
strangers  to  him  and  wouldn't  know  him.  Well,  Bill 
went  up  thar,  and  stayed  round  among  'em  a  good  while, 
and  then  went  into  the  tavern,  and  sot  down  in  the  bar- 
room. The  captain  war  in  thar,  and  he  war  a  blowin' 
'bout  the  cussed  Yankees,  and  said  the  Union  war  all 
smashed  up.  Bill  couldn't  stand  that,  so  he  let  the  cap- 
tain have  a  little  piece  of  his  mind  on  that  subject;  and 
the  captain  jumped  right  up,  and,  says  he,  'Have  a  care, 
young  man,  or  I'll  have  you  took  up !' 

" '  I  aint  afeared  of  you,'  said  Bill, '  nor  eny  other  traitor.' 


SALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL.  173 

" '  Call  me  a  traitor,'  said  the  captain,  coming  up  to  Bill 
with  a  revolver  in  his  hand  ;  '  call  me  a  traitor,  you  cursed 
liar  I' 

"  Well,  Bill  would  never  take  the  '  lie,'  so  he  jist  up  and 
knocked  the  captain  down,  and  the  captain  hollered  out, 
'  Seize  him  !  seize  him  ! !'  Well,  some  feller  came  in,  then, 
who  knowed  Bill,  and  he  told  them  who  he  war,  and  they 
were  awfully  pleased,  I  reckon,  over  the  capture  of  Devil 
Bill.  You've  hearn  of  him  up  thar  to  Kaleigh  C.  H.,  I 
reckon,  captain  ?" 

"  Yes ;  go  on." 

"  Well,  they  kept  Bill  thar  until  next  day,  when  they 
started  for  Newburn,  they  said,  as  they  let  on  they 
war  takin'  him  to  Eichmond.  They  made  Bill  get  up 
behind  a  big  Irishman,  and  three  other  cavalrymen  fol- 
lowed behind.  After  going  two  or  three  miles  the  three 
cavalrymen  fell  back,  almost  out  of  sight,  and  then  the 
big  Irishman  says  to  Bill,  'Jump  down,  now,  and  run 
for  life.  I'll  shoot  towards  you,  to  make  them  other  fel- 
lers believe  I  shot  at  you,  but  I  won't  hit  you.'  But  Bill 
understood  the  trick.  He  knew  that  several  of  our  neigh- 
bors had  been  killed  in  that  same  way,  so  he  said  nothin' 
and  jist  rode  on. 

"  '  Ain't  you  goin'  to  run  ?'  asked  the  Irishman. 

"'No,  I  ain't,'  said  Bill 

"  So  the  Irishman  got  wrothy,  and  swore  he'd  shoot  Bill 
if  he  didn't.  Well,  Bill  kinder  let  on  he  war  getting  off) 
but  instead  of  that  he  war  getting  out  his  long  pocket 
knife,  and  suddenly  seizing  the  Irishman  by  the  hair,  he 
drew  his  head  back,  and  with  all  his  might  buried  his 
knife  in  his  throat.  The  feller  struggled  awfully,  and 
both  he  and  Bill  fell  from  the  horse,  and  in  the  meantime 
Bill  gave  him  three  or  four  hard  stabs.  The  Irishman 
got  up  to  his  feet,  and  after  one  wild  look,  fell  dead. 
Well,  the  other  fellers  came  a  galloping  up,  as  fast  as  they 
could,  and  Bill  just  cut  the  dead  Irishman's  carbine  from 
it3  straps,  and  took  to  the  brush.     Well,  the  cavalrymen 


174  6ALLIE  RICHMOND  AND  DEVIL  BILL. 

came  up  and  stopped  tbar,  looking  at  the  dead  Irishman. 
Bill  war  not  far  off,  neither,  I  reckon.  He  war  just  behind 
a  big  chestnut,  but  a  few  feet  from  the  road  ;  and,  waiting 
till  he  got  a  good  chance,  he  blazed  away  with  his  car- 
bine, and  one  of  the  other  fellers  fell  from  his  horse,  and 
the  other  two  started  back  towards  'Jumping  Branch'  in 
a  desperate  hurry,  I  reckon.  "Well,  Bill  seen  that  nothing 
more  could  be  done,  so  he  riz  the  mountain,  and  come 
right  on  to  Ealeigh  C.  H.  You've  seen  him  thar,  I  reckon, 
captain  ?' 

"  Did  he  kill  the  last  man  ?" 

"No,  he  war  only  wounded,  and  his  comrades  took 
him  away  shortly  after.  But  1  can  show  you  the  grave 
of  the  Irishman  to-day.  They  buried  him  close  to  the 
spot  whar  he  war  killed,  and  that  war  the  way  Bill  war 
taken  and  got  away,  captain," 

The  old  man  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  coolly 
loaded,  lighted,  and  smoked  on  as  before.  His  story  was 
ended.  At  length  morning  came,  and  with  it  the  news 
that  the  rebels  had  crossed  the  river  at  some  point  down 
the  stream.  The  captain  then  determined  to  cross  over, 
and  attack  a  body  of  secesh  a  few  miles  beyond,  at  tlie 
house  of  one  Colonel  Henry  and  under  his  command. 
Sallie  was  up  betimes,  and  soon  had  the  breakfast  ready. 
About  nine  the  command  was  taken  across  the  river  in 
boats,  Sallie  assisting  in  moving  the  boats.  After  the 
last  man  stepped  on  the  shore,  Sallie  followed.  Her  shot- 
gun was  on  her  shoulder  and  the  cartridge-box  hung  at 
her  side. 

"  Why,  Miss  Eichmond,  you  ain't  going  with  us,  are 
you?"  asked  the  captain  in  surprise. 

'•'Indeed  I  am,  captain.  I  reckon  I'd  like  a  shot  at 
them  fellers,  as  well  as  any  on  you," 

The  command  moved  forward  rapidly  and  with  cau- 
tion, making  prisoners  of  every  man  they  met  in  order 
to  prevent  the  intelligence  of  their  approach  reaching  the 
enemy.     Finally  the  prisoners  accumulated   to  quite  a 


KENTUCK  AGAINST  KENTUCK.  175 

number,  and  it  was  thought  advisable  to  leave  them  with 
a  small  guard,  while  the  command,  less  encumbered 
could  push  on  more  rapidly.  The  captain  requested 
Sallie  to  remain  as  a  part  of  the  guard,  which  she  con- 
sented to,  and  faithfully  discharged  her  trust.  Col.  Henry 
and  his  followers  found  it.  convenient  to  retire  before  the 
Federal  troops,  and  when  they  entered  his  dwelling,  they 
found  the  nest  yet  warm,  but  the  bird  had  flown.  Some 
prisoners  were  taken,  a  little  more  scouting  done  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  the  captain  took  his  troops  back  to  the 
river.  Sallie,  as  before,  assisted  them  over,  and  welcomed 
them  at  the  house  of  her  father.  Shortly  after  the  troops 
took  up  their  march  for  Raleigh  C.  H.,  where  they  ar- 
rived the  evening  of  the  fourth  day,  very  tired,  but 
exceedingly  well  pleased  with  their  scout  to  Richmond 
Ferry. 

The  captain  recommended  the  young  unmarried 
officers  of  the  regiment  to  visit  the  ierry,  if  for  no  other 
purpose  than  to  see  Sallie,  and  he  himself  soon  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Devil  Bill— Shortly  after  the  return  of 
the  scouting  party,  the  officers  of  the  30th  sent  an  invita- 
tion to  Sallie  to  visit  Raleigh  C.  H.,  and  engaged  to  pre 
sent  her  with  a  revolver,  on  her  arrival,  but  the  regiment 
was  almost  immediately  after  ordered  on  to  Prinoetoi^ 
and  Sallie  never  made  the  visit. 


EXNTUOK  AGADIST  KENTUOK. 

In  the  rebel  charge  upon  McCook's  right  in  the  battle 
of  Stone  River,  the  rebel  Third  Kentucky  was  advancing 
full  upon  one  of  the  loyal  Kentucky  regiments.  These 
two  regiments  were  brought  from  the  same  county,  and 
consequently  were  old  friends  and  neighbors,  and  now 
about  to  meet  for  the  first  time  as  enemies.  As  soon  aa 
they  came  near  enough  for  recognition,  they  mutually 
ceased  firing,  and  began  abusing,  and  cursing  and  swear- 


KG  THE  scon's  REVENGE. 

ing  at  each  other,  calhng  each  other  the  most  outlandish 
names ;  and  all  this  time  the  battle  was  roaring  around 
them  w'tbout  much  attention  from  either  side.  It  was 
hard  to  tell  which  regiment  would  come  otY  the  victor  in 
this  wordy  battle.  As  for  as  I  could  see.  both  sides  were 
terrible  at  swearing ;  but  this  could  not  always  last ;  by 
mutual  consent  they  finalh"-  ceased  cursing,  and  grasping 
their  muskets  charged  into  each  other  with  the  most  un- 
earthly yell  ever  heard  on  any  field  of  battle.  Muskets 
were  clubbed,  bavonet  met  bayonet,  and  in  many  instan- 
ces, when  old  feuds  made  the  belligerents  crazy  with  pas- 
sion, the  musket  was  thrown  away,  and  at  it  they  went, 
pummelling,  pulling,  and  gouging  in  rough  and  tumble 
style,  and  in  a  manner  that  any  looker-on  would  consider 
a  free  fight.  The  rebels  were  getting  rather  the  better 
of  the  fight,  when  the  Twenty-third  Kentucky  succeeded 
in  giving  a  flanking  fire,  when  they  retreated  with  quite 
a  number  of  prisoners  in  their  possession.  The  rebels 
had  got  fairly  under  weigh,  when  the  Ninth  Ohio  came 
Tip  on  the  double-quick,  and  charging  on  their  now  dis- 
ordered ranks,  siicceeded  in  capturing  all  their  prisoners, 
besides  taking  in  return  a  great  many  of  the  rebels.  As 
the  late  belligerents  were  conducted  to  the  rear  tbey  ap- 
peared to  have  forgotten  their  late  animosity,  and  were 
now  on  the  best  terms  imaginable,  laughing,  and  chatting, 
and  joking,  and,  as  the  rebels  were  well  supplied  with 
whiskey,  the  canteens  were  readily  handed  about  from 
one  to  the  other,  until  they  all  became  as  joUj  as  possible 
under  the  circumstances. 


THE  SCOUT'S  EEVEN'GE. 

Night  had  settled  down  upon  the  array  of  the  Potomac, 
and  except  in  the  tent  of  a  general,  quiet  reigned  in  the 
camp.  The  river  rolled  placidly  along,  as  though  no 
hostile  forces  lined  its  banks,  and  Washincrton  looked 


THE  scout's  revenge.  ItT 

peaceful,  as  if  no  devil  were  trying  to  pluck  some  stars 
from  the  flag  which  floated  over  the  Capitol.  But  the 
measured  tramp  of  the  sentinel,  and  the  quick  low-toned 
challenge  to  the  straggler  hurrying  to  quarters,  told  the 
story  of  the  struggle  that  was  going  on. 

In  the  tent  of  the  general,  grouped  round  a  small  table 
on  which  were  spread  maps  of  the  country,  sat  several 
oflicers,  eagerly  discussing  a  point  upon  which  opinions 
diftered.  It  was  an  informal  council  of  war,  and  the  of- 
ficer in  command,  while  he  listened  carefully,  refrained 
from  giving  his  judgment  in  the  matter — flattering  first 
this  one  with  symptoms  of  agreement  with  him,  or  com- 

Elimenting  that  one  on  the  clearness  of  his  views,  while 
e  drew  from  some  of  the  more  bashful  of  the  party  what 
they  thought. 

To  none  was  he  more  polite  than  to  a  young  man  of 
fine  address,  whose  shoulder-straps  claimed  for  him  the 
rank  of  colonel.  No  greater  contrast  could  be  found  than 
■between  the  faces  of  the  general  and  his  subordinate. 
Both  had  keen  eyes,  and  would  Vje  called  handsome  men 
anywhere ;  but  the  features  of  the  elder  wore  an  open, 
manly  look,  while  those  of  the  younger  bore  a  sinister 
cast,  that  did  much  to  destroy  his  otherwise  good  looks. 
The  colonel  was  evidently  ill  at  ease,  and  though  he  re- 
turned the  polite  attentions  of  the  general  as  a  gentleman 
would,  he  did  not  venture  to  meet  the  steady  gaze  that 
accompanied  the  honeyed  words. 

Just  at  the  moment  the  discussion  was  at  the  hottest,  the 
sentry  announced  a  messenger.  "  Show  him  in,"  said  the 
general,  and  the  man  entered  with  a  respectful  salute. 
"  "We  will  resume  this  to-morrow,  gentlemen,*'  he  said, 
bowing  to  the  party,  w-ho,  taking  the  hint,  immediately 
dispersed  to  their  several  quarters. 

"  Well.  Hardy,  what  success  ?"  said  the  general,  turning 

to  the  scout  who  stood  leaning  on  his  rifle.     He  was  well 

worth  studying — a  tall,  lean  man,  with  stooping  shoulders, 

a  face  thin  and  sallow,  with  rambling  legs,  but  his  eyea 

12 


178  THE  scout's  revenge. 

glistened  as  if  on  fire.  His  body,  ungainly  as  it  vras, 
gave  promise  of  great  strength,  and  the  long  sweep  of  his 
arm,  joined  to  the  grasp  of  his  immense  hand  as  he  ca- 
ressingly held  his  Aveapon  to  his  breast,  would  have 
warned  "his  foes  that  it  was  unsafe  to  try  conclusions  with 
him  at  too  close  quarters.  On  every  line  of  his  counte 
nance,  marked  as  it  was  with  inexpressible  sadness,  werfi 
written  honesty  and  firmness,  so  that  you  felt  what  he 
said  could  be  trusted. 

"  A  leetle,  gineral,"  he  said,  looking  cautiously  about. 
"Be  we  alone?"  he  added,  in  an  undertone. 

The  general  stepped  to  the  door  of  the  tent,  but  nothing 
could  be  seen  except  the  sentry  pacing  his  usual  beat. 
The  scout,  hoAvever,  was  not  satisfied,  and  walking  briskly 
out  he  approached  the  rear  of  the  tent,  when  a  hasty  foot- 
step was  heard  retreating.  He  listened  carefully,  at  the 
same  time  keeping  his  trusty  rifle  ready  for  use,  but  the 
footsteps  died  away  in  the  distance,  and  he  returned  to 
the  tent. 

"Some  drunken  soldier,  Hardy,"  said  the  general,  a 
little  annoyed  at  the  occurrence.  "It  shall  be  looked  to 
to-morrow." 

"  Maybe  so,"  said  the  scout,  leaning  on  his  rifle,  and 
refusing  to  be  seated.  "  Yit  his  pace  war  mighty  stiddy 
for  a  man  in  liquor." 

"Well,  he  is  gone  now,  so  let  us  to  business,"  said  tho 
general,  a  little  testily. 

"Watch  D'Arblay,  general,"  said  the  scout.  "He's  in 
high  favor  where  I've  been  to-day,  and  that  ain't  no  great 
praise  for  a  Union  man." 

"  Did  you  reach  the  village,  then  ?"  asked  the  general, 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  Hardy's  face. 

"Twas  there  afore  twelve  o'clock,  and  by  luck  fell  in 
with  an  Alabamy  regiment.  So,  as  I  was  real  Virginny," 
and  a  mocking  smile  lit  up  the  sallow  face,  "  I  mixed  in 
with  the  boys." 

"  You  are  venturesome,  Hardy,"  said  the  other.     "  If 


THE  scout's  revenge  179 

they  catcli  you  they  will  show  no  mercy.  Already  your 
name  is  known  the  country  round,  and  a  reward  offered 
for  you." 

"They  can't  hurt  me  no  worse  than  they  hev,  gineral. 
I  went  by  the  homestead  to-day,  and  the  ashes  are  there 
yet.  The  fire  that  burned  the  old  place  wint  into  my 
heart,  and  I  ain't  afeard  of  being  ketched  till  my  work's 
done." 

"  Do  they  know  how  strong  we  are  in  this  place  ?" 
asked  the  general. 

"To  a  man,  gineral.  And  they're  a  chuckling  might- 
ily over  it.  'Tain't  no  secret  at  all,  and  they  don't  make 
no  bones  of  saying  they  hev  good  friends  in  your  cam.p. 
Did  I  tell  you  to  watch  D'Arblay,  gineral?"  '^and  the 
scout  fingered  the  lock  of  his  rifle,  looking  out  upon  the 
white  city  which  lay  before  him. 

Suddenly  he  started  and  threw  himself  in  the  shadow 
of  the  curtain  which  hung  at  the  door  of  the  tent,  A 
moment  he  stood  so,  and  then,  swiftly  bringing  his  rifle 
to  his  shoulder,  a  quick  report  was  heard,  and  Hardy 
turned  to  the  tent. 

The  startled  sentry  hastened  to  inquire  the  cause,  but 
the  imperturbable  old  man  carelessly  explained  that  he 
had  only  fired  off*  his  load,  and,  as  his  eccentricity  was 
well  known,  that  ended  it.  But  he  bent  low  and  whis- 
pered to  the  general,  "Keep  watch  on  D'Arblay — a  close 
watch — gineral,"  and  gave  vent  to  a  chuckle  that  shook 
his  body  till  his  bones  rattled. 

An  hour  later  and  the  little  camp  that  lay  as  an  out- 
post of  the  great  army  was  stirring  with  new  life.  No 
rapid  beat  to  arms  roused  the  sleeping  soldiers,  but  swift 
messengers  moved  among  the  white  tents,  and  at  their 
Bummons  the  men  shook  slumber  from  their  eyelids,  and 
eagerly  took  their  positions  in  the  ranks. 

A  secret  expedition,  and  at  night — of  all  things  the 
greatest  delight  of  the  true  soldier — so  much  was  clear ; 
but  in  what  direction,  or  against  what  force,  none  knew ; 


180  THE  scout's  revenge. 

yet  the  ignorance  did  not  clieck  the  undisguised  pleasure 
of  the  men,  as  they  p'romptly  obeyed  the  "fall  in"  of  the 
orderly.  It  was  enough  that  they  were  in  the  enemy's 
country,  on  soil  once  sacred,  but  now  desecrated  by  the 
footsteps  of  rebellion,  and  so  the  blow  was  effectual,  they 
cared  not  where  it  fell. 

With  the  officers  it  might  be  a  little  different,  and  some 
hastening  to  the  general's  tent  for  instructions  were  met 
by  an  aid  who  gave  hasty  information  for  the  marshalling 
of  the  forces.  No  one  was  trusted  with  the  secret  of  the 
movement,  and  they  who  persistently  sought  the  com- 
manding officer  found  at  the  entrance  of  his  tent  only  an 
old  man,  leaning  on  his  rifle.  Those  who  had  been  at 
the  council  readily  connected  the  singular  individual  with 
the  present  movement ;  while  they  who  for  the  first 
time  looked  upon  his  tall  form,  apparently  bent  with  age 
and  infirmity,  did  not  dream  that  this  was  the  scout  whose 
deeds  were  the  theme  of  conversation  about  the  camp- 
fires,  and  whose  escapes  puzzled  at  once  both  friend  and 
foe. 

Hardy  stood  watching  the  gathering  of  the  men  with  a 
grim  smile  playing  about  his  lips.  To  the  numerous  in- 
quiries that  poured  in  upon  him  he  gave  no  answer  save 
that  he  knew  nothing,  and  the  questioner  returned  no 
wiser  than  he  came.  At  last  everything  was  ready,  and 
the  order  given  to  march.  Stealthily  creeping  out  among 
the  shadows  of  the  night  went  a  little  band  of  fifteen 
hundred  men,  not  one  of  whom  knew  where  he  was 
bound. 

Just  as  the  last  company  left  the  camp,  the  general 
came  to  the  door  of  his  tent,  and  stretched  out  his  hand 
to  the  scout.  Hardy  took  it  like  a  man  who  felt  himself 
the  peer  of  an  emperor. 

"  I  have  run  a  great  risk.  Hardy,"  he  said.  "  If  you 
have  deceived  me" — he  stopped,  for  even  the  starlight 
could  not  hide  the  pained  expression  that  stole  across  the 
scout's  face — "  or  if  you  have  deceived  yourself,  the  con- 


THB  SCCmT'S  REVENGE.  181 

sequences  may  "be  terrible  no  less  to  these  brave  fellows 
than  to  me." 

"  I  hev  told  you  the  truth,  glneral,"  he  said  proudly. 
"  We  hev  fifteen  hundred  men,  and  they  ain't  less  than 
four  thousand.  It  mought  be  a  hard  fight,  but  we  kin 
git  the  best  of  'em  for  all  that.  But  ef  you've  any  mis- 
givings, gineral,  'tain't  too  late  yit.  It's  easy  callin'  of 
'em  back  agin,  though  the  boys  looked  mighty  well 
pleased  at  the  chance  for  a  brush  '  with  the  critters.'  "^ 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  halt  in  the  expedition, 
having  reached  a  fork  in  the  road.  The  general  hastily 
wrung  the  scout's  hand,  and,  as  he  said,  hurriedly,  "  No, 
no,  I  trusted  you,  and  will  not  repent,"  Hardy  returned  the 
pressure  till  the  more  delicate  hand  of  the  officer  felt  as 
if  it  were  in  a  vice,  and  immediately  pressed  forward  to 
the  van  of  the  detachment.  When  he  reached  it,  the  road 
became  clear,  and  at  the  command  "  forward  1"  the  troopa 
marched  on. 

How  fared  it  with  the  rebels  during  these  stirring  mat- 
ters among  their  enemies  ?  Peacefully  slumbering  among 
the  hills,  and  dreaming  of  anything  but  an  attack  from  a 
foe  they  knew  to  be  so  inferior  in  numbers.  They  were 
a  motley  lot.  For  the  most  part  composed  of  that  class 
known  as  "poor  whites"  in  the  South,  strangely  clad  and 
but  half  disciplined,  they  would  have  dispersed  from  their 
own  internal  discord,  had  not  their  officers  restrained 
them.  But  the  officers  were  vastly  superior  to  the  men. 
Deserters  from  the  Federal  army,  in  which  they  had  found 
both  education  and  subsistence,  they  turned  their  talents 
against  their  country,  and  gave  a  life  to  the  rebellion  it 
could  not  have  had  otherwise. 

On  this  evening,  while  the  men  sat  smoking  about  their 
fires,  alternately  asserting  the  superiority  of  their  own 
States  and  cursing  the  cowardly  Yankees,  as  they 
called  all  Federal  soldiers,  in  not  very  choice  language,  a 
knot  of  officers  were  gathered  in  consultation. 


182  THE  scout's  revenge. 

"  Has  anything  been  heard  from  D'Arblaj,  to-day  7" 
asked  one  with  a  colonel's  strap  upon  his  shoulders. 

"  Nothing,"  said  a  captain  to  whom  the  question  was 
addressed.  "  Our  messenger  brought  a  note  from  him 
yesterday  that  a  council  of  war  would  be  held  to-night. 
We  shall  have  word  from  him  to-morrow." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  saw  it,"  said  the  colonel.  "  I  hope  they 
will  resolve  to  fight.  I'm  getting  tired  of  this  inaction. 
Who  is  this  Hardy  he  cautions  us  about  ?" 

"  One  of  the  enemy's  scouts,"  said  the  captain,  "  They 
tell  marvellous  tales  of  him,  and  even  our  tents  ring  with 
his  exploits.  This  very  spot  was  his  farm,  and  yonder 
.chimney  stack  the  remains  of  his  house.  The  man  was 
a  Tory,  and  barely  escaped  with  his  life." 

The  colonel  was  thoughtful  a  moment.     "  Was  this  the 

man  whose  family  ? Well,  never  mind,  such  things 

must  be  in  war.  Keep  a  lookout  for  him,  and  if  caught, 
give  him  short  shrift — he  may  be  dangerous."  Just  then 
the  tattoo  was  beat,  and  with  a  courteous  good-night  the 
officers  separated. 

"  I  wish  we  could  get  along  without  such  fellows  as 
D'Arblay,"  said  one  young  officer  to  another,  as  they 
strolled  along  the  camp.  "  I  don't  mind  killing  the  Yan- 
kees, but  I  like  a  little  fair  play  about  it.  This  game  of  his 
can't  last  very  long,  and  he'll  be  coming  amongst  us." 

"  Don't  be  too  nice,"  said  the  other.  "  By  and  by  you'll 
be  abusing  Burton  for  this  Hardy  business.  I  hear  h? 
and  his  Arkansas  man  did  that  nice  little  job." 

"  For  God's  sake,  don't  talk  so,"  said  the  other,  shud- 
dering.    "  I  have  not  heard  all,  but  'twas  a  brutal  thing." 

"You'll  want  a  dictionary  to  give  an  adjective  strong 
enough  when  you  do  hear  it  all.  They  say  the  old  man 
refused  to  haul  down  his  flag  and  shot  one  of  our  men, 
when  they  fired  his  house,  and  only  Hardy  escaped. 
Burton  stood  by  and  saw  it  done.  The  women  beaten 
back  by  the  bayonets  did  not  scream,  but  turned  hope- 
lessly inward.     It  is  a  mystery  how  Hardy  got  away,  but 


THE  scout's  revenge.  183 

he  has  been  seen  since,  and  lives  only  for  revenge.  But, 
as  the  colonel  says,  such  things  must  be  in  war.  Good- 
night !"  and  they  parted  at  the  entrance  of  a  tent. 

While  quiet  reigns  in  the  rebel  camp,  the  little  band 
we  have  seen  set  out  under  the  scout's  guidance  is  cau- 
tiously advancing.  On  through  belts  of  woodland,  over 
hills,  and  across  some  of  the  small  streams  with  which 
the  country  abounds,  they  marched  silently  but  surely 
on  their  pre3\ 

The  scout  looked  like  a  new  man.  His  tall  form  v/as 
no  longer  bent;  or,  rather,  it  did  not  appear  so,  as  he 
strode  along  at  the  head  of  the  column.  The  sallow  face 
was  lit  up  with  intelligence,  and  a  gleam  of  ferocity  shot 
from  his  eyes ;  the  road  was  as  familiar  to  him  as  the  beaten 
paths  about  his  lost  homestead,  but  he  trusted  nothing  to 
chance.  Not  a  sound  escaped  his  practised  ear,  nor  an 
unusual  appearance  the  keen  scrutiny  of  his  eye,  and 
more  than  once  he  called  a  halt,  while  he  reconnoitred 
in  the  darkness. 

At  last  they  reached  the  foot  of  a  hill,  when  Hardy 
whispered  to  the  colonel  in  command,  and,  while  the 
troops  rested  on  their  arms,  he  went  forward  alone. 

Creeping  up  the  ascent,  keeping  in  the  shadow  of  the 
trees,  lest  even  the  feeble  starlight  should  reveal  his  pres- 
ence, he  reached  the  summit  and  flung  himself  upon  the 
grass.  Beneath  him  lay  the  white  tents  of  the  enemy, 
clustering  around  the  ruins  of  his  homestead.  A  quick 
glance  showed  him  that  no  reinforcements  had,  as  yet, 
reached  them,  and  with  almost  as  much  pleasure  he  saw 
their  number  was  not  diminished.  If  any  change  there 
had  been,  an  increase  of  the  foe  would  have  better  suited 
his  humor.  Not  a  man  less ;  for  the  vengeance  that  lired 
his  heart  burned  to  strike  a  blow  never  to  be  forgotten. 

The  out-lying  pickets  passed  close  to  the  spot  where 
he  lay  concealed,  and  as  a  surprise  was  intended,  he  bent 
his  mind  to  the  task  of  disposing  of  them.  Lazily  walk- 
ing to  and  fro,  peering  now  and  then  out  into  the  nigh^ 


184  THE  scout's  revengb. 

the  rebel  sentry  tliouglit  of  his  southern  home,  heedless 
of  the  danger  which  crouched  at  his  very  feet.  With 
such  men  as  Hardy,  action  follows  thought  as  the  thunder 
"belches  from  the  storm-cloud  right  over  head,  when  the 
swift  lightning  cleaves  its  way  to  earth ;  so  quickly  does 
the  one  follow  the  other,  that  they  seem  simultaneous. 

The  sentry  came  forward,  humming  an  air  learned  in  the 
cotton  fields  of  his  own  native  State.  A  sharp  noise,  as  of 
a  footstep  on  a  rotten  stick,  startled  him ;  but  before  he 
could  give  an  alarm  or  call  for  help,  the  hot  breath  of  an 
enemy  was  upon  his  cheek  and  his  throat  was  grasped 
by  the  sinewy  hand  of  the  scout;  the  struggle  was  brief. 
At  all  times,  it  was  not  easy  to  find  Hardy's  match,  and 
now,  standing  in  sight  of  his  ruined  home,  the  remem- 
brance of  his  wrongs  gave  him  the  strength  of  a  giant. 
There  was  a  wild  striking  out  of  the  arms,  a  clawing  of 
the  hands,  a  blackening  of  the  face,  horrible  even  in  the 
starlight,  until  the  knees  gave  way,  and  the  picket  fell  a 
lifeless  body  upon  the  sward. 

Not  a  ray  of  pity,  not  a  pang  of  regret  fell  upon  the 
heart  of  the  scout.  To  him  it  mattered  nothing  that  this 
picket  had  done  him  no  harm ;  no  vision  of  a  southern 
hearth  made  desolate,  or  of  the  long  agony  he  had  pre- 
pared for  some  aching  heart  because  he  did  not  come, 
moved  him.  Apart  from  his  duty  to  the  little  band  who 
waited  his  guidance,  the  sight  of  the  low  chimney  stack, 
standing  a  solitary  guardian  over  the  ashes  of  his  home, 
not  only  strengthened  his  arm,  but  repelled  all  sympathy 
with  the  enemy  as  a  weakness  to  be  swiftly  trodden  under 
foot.  To  him  they  were  all  alike.  Did  not  the  flames 
of  his  house  light  up  a  strange  banner,  and  did  not  that 
same  banner  wave  above  the  encampment  so  quiet  below  ? 
All  alike,  all  alike  to  the  man — no,  not  all;  one  stood 
out  among  the  throng.  When  Burton  meets  this  victim 
of  his  m  the  coming  struggle,  it  were  well  he  were  shriven 
before  the  fight,  for  Hardy  has  a  special  vow  of  vengeance 
iigainst  him,  and  willekecute  it  at'all  risks. 


THE  scout's  revengs,  1  85 

The  scout  carefully  drew  the  body  of  the  poor  wretch 
out  of  the  path,  and  seizing  his  musket,  while  he  put  his 
trusty  rifle  in  a  safe  place,  boldly  took  up  the  dead  man's 
beat.  Time  was  flying  fast;  the  morning  would  soon 
break,  and  he  must  needs  hurry  his  movements ;  so,  taking 
as  near  as  possible  the  gait  of  the  picket  he  had  slain,  he 
walked  towards  his  comrade.  The  darkness  of  the  night 
favored  his  disguise,  and  the  other  met  him  without  sus- 
picion. Hardy  clutched  at  him  with  his  left  hand,  while 
he  made  a  swift  movement  with  his  right.  There  was  a 
gurgling  in  the  throat,  a  tide  of  warm  blood  gushed  out, 
and  formed  a  pool  at  his  feet,  and  the  second  picket  had 
started  on  his  last  journey. 

So  far,  the  way  was  clear.  What  obstruction  might 
be  upon  the  hillside  he  did  not  know  nor  care ;  once  get 
the  men  upon  the  summit  unobserved,  and  all  was  safe. 
Turning  hastily,  stopping  only  to  pick  up  his  rifle  and 
listen,  lest  the  struggles  in  which  he  had  been  engaged 
should  have  disturbed  the  quiet  of  the  camp,  he  passed 
with  quick  steps  down  the  slope,  and  put  himself  by  the 
colonel's  side  at  the  head  of  the  detachment. 

The  men  lost  all  sense  of  weariness  as  they  advanced 
np  the  hill.  But  for  the  order  for  perfect  silence,  they 
would  have  given  cheer  upon  cheer,  so  eager  were  they 
for  the  fray ;  as  it  was,  they  pushed  on  vigorously,  drag- 
ging the  mountain  howitzers  which  accompanied  their 
march  as  easily  as  though  they  were  some  child's  toys 
they  handled,  and  very  soon  reached  the  top  of  the  ascent. 
Here  resting  for  a  moment,  to  gather  breath,  and  find 
proper  positions  for  their  "  bull-dogs,"  as  they  called  the 
howitzers,  the  little  band  nerved  themselves  for  the  work 
before  them. 

The  gray  dawn  was  already  breaking  in  the  east,  pal- 
ing the  stars  nearest  the  horizon,  as  Hardy  pointed  out 
to  the  colonel  the  arrangements  of  the  enemy. 

"  You  kin  take  'em  front,  kurnel,  and  your  chance  is 


]  86  THE  scout's  revenge. 

inain  good ;  but  I  s'pose  you'll  make  it  surer  by  flanking 
the  devils,"  hinting  rather  than  advising  the  movement. 

"See,"  he  continued,  pointing  with  his  long,  bony  fin- 
gers, "  there's  the  boys  from  South  Car'lina  right  oppo- 
site* the  Arkansaw  men  lie  by  yon  chimney  stack.  Ef 
I  niought,  I'd  ask  a  favor  before  the  fighting  begins," 
said  the  scout,  hesitatingly. 

"  Speak  it  freely,  Hardy,"  said  the  colonel  kindly,  with 
an  anxious  look,  the  while,  at  the  brightening  east. 

"  'Tain't  a  long  one,"  said  Hardy,  who  had  caught  the 
movement  of  the  colonel's  eye,  "  and  the  boys  '11  be  better 
for  getting  their  wind.  You  know,  mebbe,  I  had  a  home 
about  here  ?" 

The  colonel  nodded  assent.  Something  in  the  scout's 
face  made  words  needless. 

"  This  was  my  farm,  and  that  chimney  yonder  all  that's 
left  of  the  old  house.  Don't  be  afraid,  kurnel.  I  ain't 
a  going  to  tell  a  long  story.  Not  that  it's  going  to  be  for- 
gotten, but  I  shan't  talk  about  it.  I'm  satisfied  if  we  only 
clean  out  that  hornets'  nest  down  thar,  and  I  thought, 
seein'  as  I  know  the  old  place  so  well,  I  could  pilot  a 
couple  of  hundred  so  as  to  take  'em  behind." 

"  You  shall  have  them,  Hardy,"  said  the  colonel,  send- 
ing an  aid  at  once  with  orders  for  detailing  the  necessary 
number. 

The  scout  looked  on  with  eager  eyes.  "And  now, 
kurnel,"  he  said,  baring  his  head,  and  pushing  back  the 
thin  hair  which  straggled  over  his  forehead,  stretching 
out  his  hand,  at  the  same  time,  to  the  officer,  ''  I  mought 
as  well  say,  '  good-by.'  My  work's  most  done,  and  ef  I 
don't  come  out  of  this  skrimmage,  tell  the  gineral  how 
glad  I  am  he  trusted  me  this  once.  You're  goin'  to  flax 
'em  out,  kurnel,  and  the  quicker  the  better,  for  mornin's 
comin'  on,"  and  he  wrung  his  hand  with  a  will. 

Hardy  led  his  two  hundred  men  quickly  away  along 
the  top  of  the  hill,  till  he  reached  a  deep  gorge,  now  dry, 
but  in  the  rainy  season  the  bed  of  a  hillside  stream,  which 


THE  SCOtTT's  REVENGE.  18T 

formed  and  fretted  in  its  course  as  though  no  stop  could 
be  put  to  its  ravages.  In  this  they  turned,  and,  trusting 
to  the  morning  gloom,  made  their  way  to  the  back  of  the 
camp. 

The  main  body  felt  their  way  down  the  hillside.  It 
was  not  exactly  the  place  for  company  movements,  and 
a  drill-sergeant  would  hardly  have  approved  the  irregu- 
larity of  their  march ;  but  the  men  grasped  their  pieces 
in  fighting  humor,  and  welcomed  the  coming  struggle  as 
eagerly  as  does  the  maiden  her  first  ball. 

About  half  the  distance  towards  the  camp  had  been 
passed  over  when  a  sentry  discovered  the  advancing  rank, 
and,  firing  his  piece  to  give  the  alarm,  fled  hastily  to  the 
camp.  There  was  no  time  to  lose ;  silence  was  no  longer 
observed.  The  commands  of  the  ofBicers  rang  out  on 
the  morning  air,  and,  at  the  word,  the  men  rushed  upon 
the  enemy.  Down  the  hill,  along  the  open  space,  where 
the  rebel  soldiery  were  wont  to  drill,  they  broke  over 
the  slight  entrenchment  with  a  yell  of  delight,  and  a 
fierce  hand-to-hand  encounter  began. 

Struggling  among  the  white  tents  the  rebel  soldiery 
rushed  to  their  arms,  half-clad,  while  a  few  hundred 
gathered  to  the  right  of  the  camp,  only  to  be  dispersed 
by  shell  from  the  howitzers,  which  fell  among  their  ranks. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  a  retreat,  and  the  beaten 
and  scattered  forces  huddled  together  in  the  rear  of  the 
camp,  where  a  new  danger  met  them. 

Hardy  and  his  men  came  upon  the  field  with  a  ringing 
cheer,  and  dashed  into  the  fight.  The  scout's  duty  was 
done,  and  as  he  neither  knew  nor  cared  anything  for 
military  movements,  he  fought  mainly  by  himself.  A 
frenzy  possessed  him ;  his  eyes  glared  like  a  demon's, 
and  his  whole  frame  was  animated  with  supernatural 
energy.  Clubbing  his  rifle,  he  rushed  along  the  narrow 
alleys  of  the  camp,  heedless  of  the  knot  of  soldiers  who 
slunk  away  at  his  coming,  or  vainly  attempted  to  stop 


188  f^ili  scib'tT'^s  rEVeMJ!. 

his  progress,  till  he  reached  the  encampment  of  the  Arkan- 
sas men. 

A  fierce  struggle  was  in  progress,  and  Burton,  at  the 
head  of  the  backwoodsmen,  was  making  a  desperate 
stand.  A  shout  broke  from  the  lips  of  the  scout,  and  in 
a  moment  he  was  in  the  middle  of  it.  His  long  rifle, 
swung  by  his  powerful  arm,  mowed  a  lane  for  him,  and 
he  pressed  on  till  he  stood  in  the  presence  of  Burton 
himself. 

The  Arkansas  leader  was  no  coward,  and  the  defence 
had  been  a  desperate  one ;  but  he  trembled  when  he  saw 
Hardy  facing  him.  He  had  seen  him  once  before,  when 
the  white  head  and  stern  face  was  lit  up  by  the  burning 
dwelling.  Even  Burton,  the  gambler,  the  duellist,  the 
bully,  could  not  shut  his  soul  up  from  dreams,  and  the 
face  of  the  avenger  had  grown  familiar  even  in  his  slum- 
bers. Instinctively  he  drew  his  bowie-knife  from  its 
sheath,  and  the  scout,  feeling  for  the  keen  weapon  he 
carried  in  his  belt,  dropped  his  rifle,  and  stood  face  to 
face  with  his  great  enemy. 

There  was  no  cry  for  quarter,  and  both  were  soon 
locked  in  fearful  strife.  A  few  rapid  passes  of  their 
bright  blades,  and  the  Arkansas  colonel  threw  up  his 
arms  with  a  sullen  moan,  and  muttering  a  ^urse,  fell  a 
-sorpse  at  the  feet  of  the  scout. 

When  the  battle  was  over,  Hardy  was  found  leaning 
against  the  ruined  chimney,  the  pallor  of  death  spread 
over  his  face,  while  the  body  of  the  rebel  chief  lay  a  few 
feet  from  him. 

"  You  are  not  badly  hurt,  I  hope,"  said  the  colonel, 
kindly ;  "what  can  I  do  for  you?" 

"  Water,"  he  gasped ;  and  on  taking  some  from  a  can- 
teen, he  revived  a  little.  "  My  work's  done,  kurnel,"  he 
said,  faintly,  "  and  it's  about  time.  There  ain't  no  use  in 
a  dead  stick,  and  the  green  branches  are  all  gone.  Ef  you 
will,  kurnel,  tell  the  gineral  I  died  under  the  old  chimney, 
and  that  I  sent  the  Arkansas  chief  to  say  I  was  comin'." 


WHY  THE  LIEUTENANT  ATE  THE  PIE.  189 

A  grim  emile  passed  over  his  face,  whicli  faded  as  his 
listeners  stood  by. 

"  Take  some  more  water,  Hardy,"  said  one,  "bnt  he  did 
not  answer.  The  colonel  took  his  hand,  but  no  pressure 
came  from  the  sinewy  fingers,  A  slight  shiver  passed 
through  his  frame,  and  the  scout  was  dead. 

The  victory  was  complete.  A  short  time  was  spent 
burying  the  slain,  and,  laden  with  spoils,  the  conquerors 
returned  to  their  camp.  When  they  reached  it,  they 
learned  that  D'Arblay  had  been  shot  by  the  accidental 
discharge  of  a  musket  the  night  before.  Only  the  general 
knew  the  truth. 

The  despatches  that  found  their  way  to  the  papers  were 
very  brief.  There  had  been  a  night  reconnoissance,  and  a 
rebel  camp  broken  up,  with  great  loss  to  the  enemy. 
Hardy's  name  was  not  mentioned ;  but  few  who  were  in 
the  expedition  will  forget  the  tall  form  or  underestimate 
the  services  of  the  scout. 


WHY  THE  LIEUTENANT  ATE  THE  PIE. 

Gen.  Grant,  the  hero  and  veteran,  who  was  citizen, 
captain,  colonel,  brigadier-general,  and  major-general 
within  the  space  of  nine  months,  although  a  rigid  discipli- 
narian and  a  perfect  Ironsides  in  the  discharge  of  his 
ofificial  duties,  can  enjoy  a  good  joke,  and  is  always  ready 
to  perpetrate  one  when  an  opportunity  presents.  Indeed, 
among  his  acquaintances  he  is  as  much  renowned  for  his 
eccentric  humor  as  he  is  for  his  skill  and  bravery  as  a 
commander. 

When  Grant  was  a  brigadier  in  southeast  Missouri,  he 
commanded  an  expedition  against  the  rebels  under  Jeff. 
Thompson,  in  northern  Arkansas.  The  supposed  ren- 
dezvous of  the  rebels  was  about  one  hundred  and  ten 
miles,  and  the  greater  portion  of  the  route  lay  through  a 
howling  wilderness.     The  imaginary  suffering  that  our 


190         WHY  THE  LIEUTENANT  ATE  THE  PIE. 

soldiers  endured  during  the  first  two  days  of  their  march 
was  enormous.  It  was  impossible  to  steal  or  "  confiscate" 
uncultivated  real  estate,  and  not  a  hog,  or  a  chicken,  or 
an  ear  of  corn  was  anywhere  to  be  seen.  On  the  third 
day,  however,  affairs  looked  more  hopeful,  for  a  few  small 
specks  of  ground,  in  a  state  of  partial  cultivation,  were 
here  and  there  visible.  On  that  day,  Lieutenant  W.,  of 
an  Indiana  cavalry  regiment,  commanded  the  advance- 
guard,  consisting  of  eight  mounted  men.  About  noon  he 
came  up  to  a  small  farm-house,  from  the  outward  appear- 
ance of  which  he  judged  that  there  might  be  something 
fit  to  eat  inside.  He  halted  his  company,  dismounted, 
and  with  two  second  lieutenants  entered  the  dwelling. 
He  knew  that  Grant's  incipient  fame  had  already  gone 
out  through  all  that  country,  and  it  occurred  to  him  that 
by  representing  himself  to  be  the  general  he  might  obtain 
the  best  the  house  afforded.  So  assuming  a  very  impera- 
tive demeanor,  he  accosted  the  inmates  of  the  house,  and 
told  them  he  must  have  something  for  himself  and  staff 
to  eat.  They  desired  to  know  who  he  was,  and  he  told 
them  that  he  was  Brigadier-General  Grant.  At  the  sound 
of  that  name  they  flew  around  with  alarming  alacrity, 
and  served  up  about  all  they  had  in  the  house,  taking 
great  pains  all  the  while  to  make  loud  professions  of 
loyalty.  The  lieutenants  ate  as  much  as  they  could  of  the 
not  over  sumptuous  meal,  but  which  was,  nevertheless, 
good  for  that  country,  and  demanded  what  was  to  pay. 
"Nothing."     And  they  went  on  their  Avay  rejoicing. 

In  the  meantime  General  Grant,  who  had  halted  his 
army  a  few  miles  further  back,  for  a  brief  resting  spell, 
came  in  sight  of,  and  was  rather  favorably  impressed  with, 
the  appearance  of  this  same  house.  Riding  up  to  the 
fence  in  front  of  the  door,  he  desired  to  know  if  they 
would  cook  him  a  meal. 

"  No  !"  said  a  female,  in  a  gruff  voice ;  "  General  Grant 
and  his  staff  have  just  been  here  and  eaten  everything  in 
the  house  except  one  pumpkin  pie." 


A  GALLANT  LAD.  191 

'•'Hump"h,"  murmured  Grant;  "wTiat  is  jour  name?" 

"Selvidge,"  replied  the  woman. 

Casting  a  half-dollar  in  at  the  door,  he  asked  if  she 
would  keep  the  pie  till  he  sent  an  officer  for  it,  to  which 
she  replied  that  she  would. 

That  evening,  after  the  camping-ground  had  been  se- 
lected, the  various  regiments  were  notified  that  there 
would  be  a  grand  parade  at  half-past  six  for  orders.  Of- 
ficers would  see  that  their  men  all  turned  out,  etc. 

In  five  minutes  the  camp  was  in  a  perfect  uproar,  and 
filled  with  all  sorts  of  rumors ;  some  thought  the  enemy- 
were  upon  them,  it  being  so  unusual  to  have  parades 
when  on  a  march. 

At  half-past  six.  the  parade  was  formed,  ten  columns 
deep,  and  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  length. 

After  the  usual  routine  of  ceremonies  the  acting  assist- 
ant adjutant-general  read  the  following  order: — 

Headquarters    Army    ix    the    Field,      Special 

Order,  No, .     Lieutenant  W.,  of  the Indiana 

Cavalry,  having  on  this  day  eaten  everything  in  Mrs. 
Selvidge's  house,  at  the  crossing  of  the  Ironton  and  Po- 
cahontas and  Black  River  and  Cape  Girardeau  Roads, 
except  one  pumpkin  pie.  the  said  Lieutenant  W.  is  here- 
by ordered  to  return  with  an  escort  of  one  hundred  ca- 
valry and  eat  that  pie  also. — U.  S-  Grant,  Brigadier- 
General  Commanding. 

Grant's  orders  were  law,  and  no  soldier  ever  attempted 
to  evade  them.  At  seven  o'clock  the  lieutenant  filed  out 
of  camp  with  his  hundred  men,  amid  the  cheers  of  the 
entire  army.  The  escort  concurred  in  stating  that  he 
devoured  the  whole  of  the  pie,  and  seemed  to  relish  it. 


A  GALLANT  LAD. 

Captain  Boggs,  of  the  Yaruna,  tells  a  story  of  a  brave 
boy  who  was  on  board  his  vessel  during  the  bombard- 


^92  ON  THE  CUMBERLAND. 

ment  of  tlie  forts  on  the  Mississippi  Rivxr,  The  lad. 
■who  answers  to  the  name  of  Oscar,  was  but  thirteen  years 
of  age  but  he  has  an  old  head  on  his  shoulders,  and  is 
alert  and  energetic.  During  the  hottest  of  the  fire  he 
"was  busily  engaged  in  passing  ammunition  to  the  gun- 
ners, and  narrowly  escaped  death  when  one  of  the  terrific 
broadsides  of  the  Varuna's  rebel  antagonist  was  poured 
in.  Covered  with  dirt  and  begrimed  with  powder,  he  was 
met  by  Captain  Boggs,  who  asked  "  where  he  was  going 
in  such  a  hurry  ?" 

"  To  get  a  passing-box,  sir ;  the  other  one  was  smashed 
by  a  ball !"  And  so,  throughout  the  fight,  the  brave  lad 
held  his  place  and  did  his  duty. 

When  the  Varuna  went  down,  Captain  Boggs  missed 
his  boy,  and  thought  he  was  among  the  victims  of  the 
battle.  But  a  few  minutes  afterwards  he  saw  the  lad 
gallantly  swimming  towards  the  wreck.  Clambering  on 
board  of  Captain  Boggs's  boat,  he  threw  his  hand  up  to 
his  forehead,  giving  the  usual  salute,  and  uttering  only 
the  words,  "AH  right,  sir!  I  report  myself  on  board," 
passed  coolly  to  his  station. 


'       OU  THE  OUMBEELAND. 

Two  of  the  gunners  at  the  bow-guns  of  the  Cumber- 
land, when  the  ship  was  sinking,  clasped  their  guns  in 
their  arms,  and  would  not  be  removed,  and  went  down 
embracing  them.  One  gunner  had  both  his  legs  shot 
away ;  but  he  made  three  steps  on  his  bloody  thighs, 
seized  the  lanyard  and  fired  his  gun,  falling  back  dead. 
Another  lost  both  arms  and  legs,  yet  lived;  and  when 
they  would  assist  him,  cried  out,  "Back  to  your  guns, 
boys!  Give 'em  fits!  Hurrah  for  the  flag !"  lie  lived 
till  she  sank. 


A  CHAT  ABOUT  STONE  RIVER.  193 


A  CHAT  ABOUT  STONE  EIYEE. 

There  \vas  rare  comedy  commingled  with  the  tragedy 
at  Stone  River.  The  humorisrn  of  battle  saturates  you 
after  carnage  is  ended.  The  richest  of  the  drollery  and 
fun  is  not  printable.  But  we  can  roar  over  it  in  bivouac. 
Suppose  we  have  a  chapter  of  incidents.  One  of  the  good 
things  was  Irish,  of  course. 

An  Irish  rebel  of  the  1st  Louisiana,  who  had  charged 
too  far  into  our  front,  was  coming  out  of  the  fight  a  cap- 
tive, with  a  broken  arm.  A  surgeon  had  dressed  it 
temporarily. 

"  You  an  Irishman  and  a  rebeV  quoth  I ;  "  what  are 
you  fighting  us  for  ?" 

"  Sure,  your  honor,"  swiftly  retorted  Pat,  "  an'  did  ye 
ever  hear  uv  the  likes  of  an  army,  an'  there  wasn't  Irish- 
men in  it  ?" 

"  But  Pat,"  interposed  Father  Trecy,  "you  were  forced 
into  the  service." 

*'  Yer  riverence,"  replied  Pat,  respectfully  saluting,  "  I 
went  into  it  with  a  good  will.  The  boys  was  all  goin' ; 
there  was  a  fight,  an'  sure  Patrick  wasn't  the  man  to  lit 
inny  man  go  furninst  him."  Pat  was  an  incorrigible, 
and  we  let  him  go. 

A  cluster  of  mangled  fellows  were  huddled  about  a 
field  hospital,  waiting  surgical  attention.  A  big  brawny 
trooper,  with  a  bullet  in  his  left  leg  and  another  in  his 
right  arm,  hobbled  up,  holding  his  wounded  arm  in  his 
left  hand.  "By  G — d,  doctor,"  said  he,  with  much  less 
piety  than  pain,  "  the  d — d  rebs  came  pretty  near  hittin' 
me.'' 

Another  fellow,  blowing  blood  copiously  from  his  nose 
— the  point  of  which  had  been  shot  off — as  a  whale  spouts 
sea  water,  interposed:  "The  d — d  rascals" — sputter — 
*'  come  d — d  near  " — another  sputter — "  oyiissin''  me." 

An  Irish  soldier  being  hit,  turned  to  his  officer,  patheti- 
13 


194  A  CHxVT  ABOUT  STONE  RIVER. 

cally  exclaiming,  "Lieutenant,  shure  an'  I'm  hit !"  "WLat 
the  d — 1  are  you  doing  there,  then  ?"  responded  the  lieu- 
tenant, taking  Pat  by  the  collar  and  ejecting  him  from 
the  ranks.  "  Get  out  of  that  and  give  a  better  man  your 
place." 

The  general  commanding  displayed  a  distressing 
faculty  for  keeping  in  hot  places.  After  several  casual- 
ties to  the  staft'  and  while  missiles  were  flying  about 
promiscuously,  one  of  his  aids  modestly  asked  liim,  "Do 
you  ihink  it  right  to  expose  your  life  so,  sir?"  The  gen- 
eral replied  by  dashing  into  a  hotter  place  to  correct  an 
alignment  and  regulate  a  battery  which  was  firing  rather 
recklessly.  He  was  suddenly  checked  by  a  regiment 
drawn  across  the  field.  The  men  were  down  on  their 
bellies,  and  several  rebel  batteries  were  flinging  shot  and 
shell  all  around  them.  The  general  thought  it  a  good 
opportunity  to  make  a  speech  to  them.  AUhough  a  fine 
talker,  he  is  not  a  finished  orator.  But  he  jerks  out  sen- 
tences that  are  not  easily  misunderstood.  The  battle-field, 
the  orator,  and  the  audience  presented  a  singular  specta- 
cle. When  the  general  addressed  the  men,  each  elevated 
his  head  from  the  ground,  turning  his  face  towards  the 
commander. 

'■'  Men,"  said  he,  "  do  jon  want  to  know  how  to  be  safe  ? 
If  you  do,  shoot  low.  Fire  at  their  shins.  But  do  you 
want  to  know  how  to  be  safest  of  all?  I'll  tell  you. 
Give  them  a  blizzard  right  at  their  shins  at  short  range, 
and  then  let  them  have  the  bayonet.  Give  them  the 
bayonet,  I  say !"  The  general  thinks  a  "  blizzard  "  at 
short  range  a  very  good  thing.  j» 

Liout.  Willie  Porter,  of  the  general's  staff,  a  promising 
youth  of  eighteen  or  nineteen  summers,  amused  us  by  his 
sang  fro  id.  When  he  mounted  in  the  morning,  he  filled 
the  general's  haversack  with  luncheon,  and  threw  it  over 
his  own  shoulder.  During  the  day  a  shell  explotled  in 
the  midst  of  the  staff.  A  fragment  of  it  struck  between 
Porter's  side  and  the  haversack,  bruising  him  severely, 


WHAT  IT  COST  TO  BE  LOYAL.  195 

and  tearing  open  the  haversack.  The  luncheon  tumbled 
to  the  ground.  "  There,"  said  Porter,  with  a  droll  grim- 
ace, unmindful  of  his  own  narrow  escape,  "  all  the  dinner 
is  ffone." 


THE  WEONG  LEG. 

A  lieutenant  of  the  First  North  Carolina  regiment,  who 
had  lost  a  leg  in  an  engagement  in  North  Carolina,  and 
who  had  supplied  its  place  with  an  artificial  member, 
consisting  of  a  stout  oaken  peg,  was  present  at  the  fight 
at  Olustee,  Fla,,  and  while  the  battle  was  as  warm  as  one 
would  care  to  experience  it,  a  rebel  sharpshooter  put  a  bul- 
let through  his  trowsers  leg  and  through  his  wooden  peg. 
He  felt  the  blow,  but  escaped  the  twinge  of  pain  that  gene- 
rally accompanies  the  passage  of  a  bullet  through  genuine 
flesh  and  muscle,  and  enjoying  a  keen  sense  of  the  ludi- 
crous, he  forgot  the  battle  and  its  dangers,  and  gave  way 
to  the  heartiest  and  most  explosive  laughter.  He  pushed 
along  the  line,  and  approached  the  colonel,  to  whom,  after 
a  severe  effort,  he  was  able  to  communicate  the  cause  of 
his  mirth.  Almost  convulsed  with  laughter,  he  exclaimed : 
"Colonel!  by  George!  the  d — d  rebels  have  shot  me 
through  the  wooden  leg !  Ha  !  ha  !  Devilish  good  joke 
on  the  fellows !"  and  he  hobbled  back  to  his  position  in 
the  line. 


WHAT  IT  COST  TO  BE  LOYAL. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  rebellion,  Widow  W.  lived 
in  the  White  Eiver  country,  Mo.— a  land  of  hills  and  of 
ignorance.  In  that  country  she  and  her  family  stood 
almost  alone  upon  the  side  of  the  National  Union.  Her 
neighbors  were  advocates  of  the  rebellion,  and  even  before 
the  arrival  of  the  army  in  Springfield,  all  loyal  citizens 


196  WHAT  IT  COST  TO  BE  LOYAL, 

were  warned  that  they  must  leave  their  homes  or  die.  It 
was  little  that  the  poor  widow  had  to  leave — a  miserable 
log-cabia  aud  a  small  patch  of  hillside-— bat  such  as  it  was, 
she  was  preparing  to  abandon  it,  when  her  son  Harvey 
left  her,  in  search  of  employment.  She  packed  tiis  bun- 
dle with  a  heavy  heart,  took  a  silk  handkerchief  from 
her  neck,  gave  it  to  him,  and  kissed  him  good  by,  never 
expecting  to  see  him  again. 

He  had  not  been  gone  many  days  when  her  persecution 
began.  Her  little  boy  was  one  evening  bringing  m  wood 
for  the  fire,  when  a  shot  was  heard — a  bullet  struck  the 
log  under  his  arm,  and  he  dropped  it  with  a  scream. 
The  ball  had  just  missed  his  heart.  Joy  at  his  escape 
from  death  was  henceforth  mingled  with  gloomy  appre 
hension. 

Next  she  heard  of  the  death  of  Harvey.  He  had  found 
a  home,  and  fancying  himself  secure,  was  alone  at  work 
in  the  field.  The  family  with  whom  he  lived  Avere  ab- 
sent. When  they  returned  at  noon  they  found  his  dead 
body  in.  the  house,  pierced  by  a  bullet.  His  torn  cap 
and  other  signs  witnessed  to  the  severity  of  his  struggle 
before  he  yielded  to  his  murderer. 

From  this  time  the  family  of  Mrs.  W.  lived  in  constant 
fear.  One  day  a  gun  was  fired  at  them  as  they  sat  at 
dinner.  Often  they  saw  men  prowling  about  with  guns, 
lookinsr  for  the  voung  men.  One  man  was  bold  enough  to 
come  into  the  cabin  in  search  of  .them.  At  night  they 
all  hid  in  the  woods,  and  slept.  The  poor  woman  was 
one  day  gathering  corn  in  the  garden,  and  William  was 
sitting  upon  the  fence. 

"fion't  sit  there,  William,"  said  his  mother,  "you  are 
too  f  lir  a  mark  for  a  shot." 

^V'illiam  went  to  the  door  and  sat  upon  the  step. 

'•  William,"  said  his  sister,  "  you  are  not  safe  there. 
Come  into  the  house." 

He  obeyed.     He  was  sitting  between  two  beds,  whea 


WHAT  IT  COST  TO  BE  LOYAL.  19T 

sudden!  V  another  shot  rang  "upon  the  air,  and  the  widow's 
second  son,  Samuel,  whom  she  had  not  noticed  sitting  by 
another  door,  rose  to  his  feet,  staggered  a  few  steps  toward 
his  mother,  and  fell  a  corpse  before  her. 

"  I  never  wished  any  one  in  torment  before,"  she  said, 
"  but  I  did  wish  the  man  that  killed  him  was  there." 

Her  three  oldest  sons  at  onee  left  the  cabin  and  fled 
over  the  hills.  They  were  all  afterwards  in  the  National 
army.  Samuel's  sister  washed  the  cold  clay  and  dressed 
it  for  the  grave.  After  two  days  the  secession  neighbors 
came  to  bury  him.  At  first  the  frantic  mother  refused  to 
let  them  touch  his  body.  At  last  she  consented.  The 
clods  were  falling  upon  the  coffin,  each  sound  awakening 
an  echo  in  her  heart,  when  a  whip-poor-will  fluttered 
down  with  its  wild  melancholy  cry,  and  settled  in  the 
open  grave.  The  note  so  terrified  the  conscience-stricken, 
superstitious  wretches,  that  for  a  moment  they  fled  in  dis- 
may. 

Two  of  her  children  were  now  in  the  tomb.  Three 
had  escaped  for  their  lives.  The  unhappy  woman  was 
left  with  her  two  daughters  and  three  small  children, 
helpless  and  alone.  She  was  obliged  to  go  thirty  miles 
upon  horseback  to  mill  for  food,  and  afterwards  to  return 
on  foot,  leading  her  horse  by  the  bridle,  with  the  sack  of 
meal  upon  his  back.  On  her  return  she  met  her  children, 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  her  own  house.  In  her  neigh- 
bor's yard  her  two  boys,  aged  ten  and  twelve  years,  were 
digging  another  grave — the  grave  of  an  old  man,  mur- 
dered in  her  absence  for  the  crime  of  loyalty  to  the  Union. 
Together  with  a  white-headed  patriot,  who  tottered  with 
age,  they  placed  the  corpse  upon  a  board,  rolled  it,  unpre- 
pared for  burial  and  uncoffined,  into  the  shalloAv  pit,  and 
then  covered  it  with  earth.  Such  are  the  trials  of  loyal 
citizens  in  the  border  slave  States,  and  wherever  rebel- 
lion has  been  in  power. 

The  widow  now  escaped  for  refuge  to  St.  Louis.     And 
there,  to  crown  her  sorrows  in  the  absence  of  her  three 


198  A  DESPERATE  HAND-TO-HAND  CONTEST. 

oldest  remaining  sons,  a  drunken  soldier  of  the  Eiftb. 
Kansas  Regiment  shot  her  daughter  Marj.  as  she  was 
standino^  in  the  door  of  her  house. 


A  DESPEEATE  HAND-TO-HAND  CONTEST. 

Two  Minnesota  boys  once  took  it  into  their  heads  to 
forage  a  little  for  amusement  as  well  as  eatables.  Striking 
out  from  their  encampment  into  the  forest,  they  followed 
a  narrow  road  some  distance,  until,  turning  a  bend,  five 
Secession  pickets  appeared  not  fifty  yaixls  distant.  The 
parties  discovered  each  other  simultaneously,  and  at  once 
levelled  their  rifles  and  fired.  Two  of  the  Confederates 
fell  dead,  and  one  of  the  Minnesotians,  the  other  also  fill- 
ing, however,  but  with  the  design  of  trapping  the  other 
three,  who  at  once  came  up,  as  they  said,  to  "examine  the 
d — — d  Yankees," 

Drawing  his  revolver,  the  Minnesotian  found  he  had 
but  two  barrels  loaded,  and  with  these  he  shot  two  of  the 
pickets.  Springing  to  his  feet,  he  snatched  his  sabre 
bayonet  from  his  rifle,  and  lunged  at  the  survivor,  who 
proved  to  be  a  stalwart  lieutenant,  armed  only  with  a 
heavy  sword.  The  superior  skill  of  the  Southron  was 
taxed  to  the  utmost  in  parrying  the  vigorous  thrusts  and 
lunges  of  the  brawny  lumberman,  and  for  several  min- 
utes the  contest  waged  in  silence,  broken  only  by  the 
rustle  of  the  long  grass  by  the  roadside,  and  the  clash  of 
their  weapons.  Feigning  fatigue,  the  Minnesotian  fell 
back  a  few  steps,  and  as  his  adversary  closed  upon  him 
with  a  cat-like  spring,  he  let  his  sabre  come  down  on  tlie 
head  of  Secesh,  and  the  game  was  up.  Collecting  the 
arms  of  the  Secessionists,  he  returned  to  the  camp,  where 
he  obtained  assistance,  and  buried  the  bodies  of  his  com- 
panion and  their  foes  in.  one  grave. 


KILLED  IN  ACTION.  199 


nSTS  AGAINST  MUSKETS. 

During  the  retreat  from  Bull  Run  a  large  bony  back- 
woodsman from  Michigan  remained  behind  to  assist  a 
wounded  comrade,  and  was  surrounded  by  four  Seces- 
sionists. Throwing  aside  his  musket,  the  Michigandti- 
exclaimed — 

"You  darnation  scoundrels!  I  can  lick  you  without 
my  shooting  iron." 

And  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  Jonathan  'went 
in  "  by  planting  his  burly  fists  between  the  eyes  of  one 
of  the  enemy,  knocking  him  over.  One  more  stroke,  well 
aimed,  laid  the  second  in  the  dust,  while  the  third  received 
a  stunner  upon  the  proboscis  which  made  him  kiss  the 
earth ;  and  probably  the  fourth  would  have  met  a  similar 
fate  had  he  not,  with  the  butt  of  his  gun,  knocked  Jona- 
than over.  The  gallant  Michigander  was  stunned  by  the 
blow,  when  his  capture  Avas  easily  accomplished. 


KILLED  IN  ACTION. 

It  was  the  day  of  Cedar  Mountain.  Crawford  had  such 
scanty  numbers  that  the  cavalry  was  formed  as  a  first 
line  of  battle,  supporting  the  advance  batteries.  The 
audacity  of  the  movement  seemed  to  puzzle  the  enemy ; 
for,  instead  of  pushing  us  hard  and  driving  back  our 
feeble  force,  the  whole  morning  was  spent  in  slowly  feel- 
ing their  way  into  position,  only  now  and  then  pitching 
a  few  harmless  shell  in  our  direction.  Besides,  they  had 
about  as  good  ground  to  fight  on  where  they  were  as 
they  could  find  further  on;  and  they  were  probably 
ignorant  what  forces  we  might  have  upon  tlieir  flanks. 
From  sunrise  until  half  past  three  in  the  afternoon  we 
stood  there  W'earily,  only  moving  by  squadrons  to  water 
and   detachino:   carbineers  as  skirmishers.     Across  tho 


200  KILLED  EST  ACTIO*. 

jRelds,  which  rose  in  graceful  undulations,  we  conld  faintly 
discern  the  columns  of  rebel  cavah-y  and  infantry  moving 
from  wood  to  wood,  in  the  direction  of  our  left.  We 
were  so  placed  that  we  could  see  nothing  but  the  rebels, 
the  Rhode  Island  Cavalry  formed  near  us,  and  one  battery 
in  sections  on  the  rise  of  the  hill  behind  us. 

At  three  o'clock  we  had  gathered  some  oats  and  wheat 
harvested  in  the  adjoining  field,  and  were  feeding  them 
to  our  horses  in  addition  to  the  corn-blades  among  which 
we  stood,  when  tb.e  rebel  batteries  were  moved  by  hand 
over  the  brow  of  the  hill  in  front,  and  opened  upon  us 
with  great  rapidity  of  fire  and  accuracy  of  aim.  Our 
skirmishers  in  the  meantime  were  sharply  engaged 
with  theirs ;  and,  notwithstanding  their  disadvantage  in 
being  mounted  and  having  merely  the  short  carbine,  did 
considerable  execution,  losing  only  one  horse.  They 
kept  their  enemy  nervously  making  little  rushes  forward 
as  they  fired,  and  falling  back  to  load,  so  that  the  rebels 
began  to  fire  wilder  and  wilder.  At  last  there  was  an 
advance  in  force,  and  they  opened  with  grape  upon  this 
scattered  line.  Our  men  came  back  like  a  whirlwind, 
completely  obscured  by  dust,  and  fell  into  their  places 
in  the  ranks.  Now  the  battery  which  our  regiment  was 
supporting  began  to  show  its  brilliant  qualities.  I  think 
that  it  was  L  battery,  First  New  York  Artillery,  but  am 
not  positive.  Its  sections,  one  above  the  other,  either 
concentrated  their  fire  or  distributed  it  as  circumstances 
required;  and  from  the  first  shot  to  the  last  almost  every 
missile  did  its  duty.  An  officer  of  ours,  who  was  out 
wdth  skirmishers  on  our  right,  was  so  placed  that  he  could 
see  the  effects  of  the  fire  on  a  brigade  Avho  were  lying 
hehind  a  hill  waiting  to  charge  upon  the  battery.  For 
a  few  seconds  they  lay  under  the  fire.  Those  few  seconds 
cost  them  thirty  men ;  and  as  they  sprang  up  to  run  away 
they  were  swept  even  more  fearfully.  The  force  broke, 
and  was  not,  I  believe,  re-formed  during  the  engagement. 

While  the  battery  was  doing  its  work  we  were  doing 


KILLED  IN  ACTION.  20l 

ours — the  unpleasantest  duty  that  can  be  imposed.  We 
had  to  sit  in  our  saddles,  motionless  and  helpless,  exposed 
to  a  tremendous  fire,  and  unable  to  return  a  shot.  Out 
of  the  woods  in  our  front  the  sharpshooters  of  the  rebel 
brigade  had  been  sent  to  "  disperse  that  cavalry^  Fortu- 
nately for  us  our  lieutenant-colonel  was  an  old  soldier, 
and  had  chosen  our  place  as  none  but  an  old  soldier  w^ould. 
The  corn-iield  was,  as  I  have  said,  full  of  little  undula- 
tions. Just  in  front  of  us  was  a  hollow,  and  beyond  it  a 
rising  ground.  If  we  had  been  in  the  hollow,  though 
covered  from  the  sharpshooters,  we  should  have  been 
raked  by  the  artillery ;  and  the  hilltop  was  of  course  bad. 
So  we  stood  to  the  rear  of  the  hollow,  on  the  rise  of  the 
hill ;  so  that  those  in  front,  unconscious  of  this  wide  de- 
pression, must  have  thought  us  so  much  nearer  to  them, 
and  have  regulated  their  aim  accordingly.  This  I 
imagine  to  have  been  the  case,  for  a  perfect  storm  of 
bullets  swept  across  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and  struck  up 
the  dust  at  our  horses'  feet.  Simultaneously  balls  come 
whirring  through  the  air  just  above  our  heads,  causing  a 
shock  to  the  nerves  simihir  to  that  occasioned  by  a  covey 
of  quail  starting  from  beneath  our  feet,  and  causing  a 
good  many  of  the  men  to  dodge  and  twist  a  little  in  their 
saddles.  I  was  remarking  tliis  fact  indignantly  to  the 
major,  when,  "  Nonsense !"  was  his  reply.  "  Why,  I 
dodge  myself!"  of  which  he  immediately  gave  an  illus- 
tration. I  looked  around,  and  there  were  General  Banks 
and  his  staff  also  bending  gracefully  to  and  fro.  I  there- 
ibre  concluded  that  the  fire  was  regarded  as  hot  and 
heavy. 

"  Steady  in  the  first  squadron !  Stead}^  there,  I  say  ! 
AVhat  are  you  about  ?"  sang  out  the  major's  cleaT,  stern 
voice. 

As  he  moved  to  check  an  apparent  confusion,  a  man 
made  his  way  out  of  the  ranks — a  little  pale,  perhaps, 
but  otherwise  as  usual. 

"  What  are  you  doing  leaving  the  ranks,  sir  ?" 


202  KILLED  IN  ACTION. 

"The  man  saluted  him  quietly,  and  answered  "Hit; 
sir."     He  had  a  "  pretty"  sharp  clip  from  a  rifle-ball. 

"Go  to  the  rear  and  get  dressed,"  said  the  major. 

The  line  was  dressed  again  Avithout  need  of  commands, 
and  there  we  stood  again  as  calmly  as  ever  under  fire. 
But  now  the  men  began  to  suffer,  and  the  horses  espe- 
cially had  been  struck  several  times.  The  battery  had 
dismounted  a  gun  which  had  been  run  up  to  the  sharp- 
shooters, to  open  on  us  with  canister,  but  the  rifle-balls 
and  the  shell  were  becoming  more  and  more  accurate  in 
their  aim.  Bayard  turned  and  spoke  to  Banks.  "We 
heard  the  Major-general  answer,  "  They  stand  it  like 
veterans.  I  shall  myself  show  these  their  new  position 
when  I  move  them."  Presently  the  order  came,  "Pla- 
toons, right  about  wheel !"  and  at  a  walk,  without  break- 
ing a  rank,  we  steadily  moved  back,  crossing  the  exposed 
hill-top  and  descending  on  the  other  side,  where  we  again 
formed.  But  now  our  whole  first  line  was  falling  back 
upon  Banks's  corps,  which  had  been  formed  as  it  had 
come  up  behind  us;  and  the  enemy  had  succeeded  in 
planting  a  battery  upon  Cedar  Mountain,  which  com- 
pletely enfiladed  our  position.  Over  the  brow  of  the  hill 
and  from  the  left  flank,  the  shriek  of  the  shell  thrilled  our 
ears,  and  all  along  the  line  they  burst  with  a  sound  that, 
once  heard,  can  never  be  forgotten. 

The  battery — one  piece  dismounted  and  half  the  horses 
killed — limbered  up  and  moved  ofi".  Taking  down  the 
fence  in  our  rear  and  that  into  the  road  at  our  right,  the 
regiment  again  made  an  about,  and  retired  a  second  time 
in  line.  That  was  the  most  trying  time  of  all  that  day. 
The  enemy's  range  was  perfect,  and  with  every  discharge 
each  man  wondered  how  he  had  escaped.  The  apprehen- 
sion of  immediate  death  was  strong  in  every  soul,  and 
yet  the  line  moved  over  that  uneven  ground  better  than 
it  could  have  done  on  drill.  Kot  an  attempt  was  made 
to  break  ranks  or  to  straggle,  even  when  comrades  went 
down  on  either  hand.     Oh  I  how  proud  we  were  of  tha 


KILLED  IN  ACTION.  203 

men,  and  how  clieerfully  and  confidently  all  the  officers 
ever  after  gave  their  orders,  certain  that  they  would  be 
obeyed ! 

As  the  chaplain,  who  had  occasionally  been  riding 
along  the  ranks,  endeavoring  to  cheer  the  men,  while  his 
services  were  not  yet  required  in  the  hospital,  turned 
from  helping  to  clear  away  the  fence,  a  man  from  the  left 
came  by,  leading  two  or  three  horses, 

''  \Yhere  are  you  going  from  the  field  ?" 

"  It's  the  lieutenant,  sir.  A  shell  has  struck  him,  and 
the  boys  are  carrying  him,  while  I  take  the  horses." 

"Who?      Not   A ?"    ejaculated    the    chaplain 

anxiously. 

"  Yes,  sir.     Here  he  comes." 

And  there  lay  the  poor  bo}^  almost  a  child  in  look, 
and  a  sort  of  pet  among  officers  and  men,  pale  and  stunned, 
in  the  arms  of  some  of  his  platoon,  his  right  leg  nearly 
severed  from  his  body.  The  crushed  and  torn  muscles 
showed  among  them  the  broken  bone,  and  the  blood 
dropped  slowly  to  the  ground,  mingling  with  the  dust. 
To  get  him  into  an  ambulance  and  drive  back  to  the  hos- 
pital seemed  fearfully  long  for  all ;  and  I  think  that  the 
men  felt  every  jolt  almost  as  sharply  as  did  he.  Behind 
a  wood  was  spread  out  the  ghastly  apparatus  of  military 
surgery,  and  the  poor  boy  was  removed  as  quickly  as 
circumstances  would  permit  to  the  neighborhood  of  the 
table.  As  he  lay  in  the  chaplain's  arms  he  seemed  to  re- 
cognize the  voice  that  spoke  to  him,  and  with  the  gasp- 
ings  of  a  dying  man  he  whispered — 

*'  Oh,  chaplain,  if  I  could  only  pray !" 

••  Shall  I  pray  for  you  ?" 

"Yes." 

And  the  chaplain  put  up  those  exquisite  petitions  in 
the  Episcopal  service  for  the  visitation  of  the  sick. 

A 's  lips  moved  as  if  he  were  ibl lowing  the  words 

of  the  petition  to  the  very  end.     Then  he  was  lifted  on 
the  table,  the  sponge  of  chloroform  applied,  and   the 


204  DRAWING  RATIONS. 

ghastly  work  of  amputation  performed.  He  never  reco- 
vered from  the  shock.  His  mind  wandered  again  to  the 
action,  and  he  uttered  words  of  command  to  his  men. 
At  last,  with  a  feeble  motion  of  the  hand,  he  made  an 
effort  to  ejaculate  "  Star-spangled  banner !"  These  were 
his  last  words.  The  shells  of  the  enemy  came  plunging 
through  the  wood,  and  struck  against  the  fence  behind 

which  our  hospital  was  established.     A was  placed 

in  an  ambulance,  beside  B ,  who  had  been  hit  a»h 

most  at  the  same  moment ;  and  the  whole  establishment 
moved  back  to  a  house  in  the  rear.  Scarcely  had  he  been 
removed  from  the  vehicle  when  he  quietly  breathed  his 
last.      He  lies  buried    in   Culpepper,   in  the  southwest 

corner  of  our  military  graveyard,  while  his  cousin  H 

sleeps  at  Harrisonburg,  awaiting  the  same  general  resur- 
rection. 


DEAWING  KATIONS. 

There  are  some  episodes  in  the  life  of  a  soldier  pro- 
vocative of  laughter,  and  that  serve  to  disperse,  in  some 
measure,  the  ennui  of  camp  life.  A  farmer,  who  did  not 
reside  so  far  from  a  camp  of  the  "  boys"  as  he  wished  he 
did,  was  accustomed  to  find  every  morning  that  several 
TOWS  of  potatoes  had  disappeared  from  the  field.  He  bore 
it  some  time,  but  when  the  last  half  of  his  field  of  fine 
"kidneys"  began  to  disappear,  he  began  to  think  that 
sort  of  thing  had  gone  far  enough,  and  determined  to  stop 
it.  Accordingly  he  made  a  visit  to  camp  early  next 
morning,  and  amused  himself  by  going  round  to  see 
whether  the  soldiers  were  provided  with  good  and  whole- 
some provisions.  He  had  not  proceeded  far  when  he 
found  a  "boy"  just  serving  up  a  fine  dish  of  *' kidneys," 
which  looked  marvellously  like  those  that  the  gude  wife 
brought  to  his  own  table.  Halting,  the  following  coWo^ 
quy  ensued : — 


hadn't  heard  op  the  war.  205 

"  Have  fine  potatoes  here,  I  see." 

"  Splendid  !"  was  the  reply. 

"  Where  do  you  get  them  ?" 

"  Draw  them"." 

"  Does  government  furnish  potatoes  in  your  rations  ?" 

"  Nary  potato." 

"  I  thought  you  said  you  drew  them." 

"  Did !  we  just  do  that  thing  I" 

"But  how,  if  they  are  not  included  in  your  rations?" 

"Easiest  thing  in  the  world  I  Won't  you  take  some 
with  us  ?"  said  the  soldier,  as  he  seated  himself  at  the  ta- 
ble opposite  the  smoking  vegetables. 

"  Thank  you.  But  will  you  oblige  me  by  telling  how 
you  draw  your  potatoes,  as  they  are  not  found  by  the 
commissary?" 

"  Nothing  easier.  Draiv  ''em  hy  the  tops,  mostly  !  Some- 
times by  a  hoe,  if  one  is  left  in  the  field." 

"  Hum  !  Yes  I  I  understand  !  Well,  see  here,  if  you 
won't  draw  any  more  of  mine,  I  will  bring  you  a  basket 
every  morning,  and  draw  them  myself" 

"  Bully  for  you,  old  fellow !"  was  the  cry,  and  three 
cheers  and  a  tiger  were  given  for  the  farmer.  The  cove- 
nant was  entered  into,  and  no  one  but  the  owner  drew 
potatoes  from  that  field  afterward. 


HADN'T  HEAED  OP  THE  WAE. 

After  Western  Virginia  had  been  for  some  months  the 
theatre  of  active  operations,  a  scout  going  out  through 
the  woods  near  Elkwater,  on  picket  duty,  accidentally 
espied,  away  in  a  dark  ravine,  a  little  log  hut.  Antici- 
pating a  hearty  meal,  he  rode  up  to  the  house,  and  an  old 
woman,  with  a  face  like  a  pig's,  came  out  looking  the 
picture  of  consternation.  The  soldier  dismounted,  and 
asked  for  something  to  eat. 

"  What !  wittles  ?"  exclaimed  the  horrible  looking  crea- 


206  AN  IMPROMPTU  DUEL. 

tare.  "Wbar  did  you  come  from,  and  what  be  a  sojer 
doiii'  here?" 

"  Well,  I  came  from  Indianapolis,  and  be  after  some- 
thing to  eat.     Are  there  any  secesh  in  these  parts?" 

"  Any  what  ?" 

"  Secesh." 

'•'  Why,  gracious,  what's  them  ?" 

"  Are  you  and  your  folks  for  the  Union  ?" 

"  Why,  sartin.     That's  the  old  man,  neow." 

Just  at  this  moment  there  came  a  gaunt-eyed,  slim- 
livered,  carnivorous,  yellow  skinned,  mountain  Virginian 
— no  doubt  one  of  the  first  families. 

"  Look  heah,"  continued  the  old  woman,  "this  'ere  sojer 
wants  to  know  if  you  be  Union."' 

The  old  fellow  looked  more  astonished  than  the  woman 
at  the  soldier.  In  the  course  of  the  conversation  the 
Boldier  inquired  what  the  old  man  thought  of  the  war. 

"  What  war  ?"  exclaimed  the  old  fellow ;  "  the  Revolu- 
tion ?" 

"  Yes,  the  rebellion,  we  call  it." 

"Oh,  why,  we  gin  the  Britishers  fits,  didn't  we?" 

It  was  evident  the  old  man  knew  nothing  of  the  rebel- 
lion going  on.  When  asked  if  he  heard  the  fight  the 
other  day,  only  six  miles  from  his  home,  he  opened  his 
eyes  and  said  that  he  heard  it  thunderin  mighty  loud,  but 
couldn't  see  no  clouds,  and  didn't  know  what  to  make  of* 
it." 


AN  IMPROMPTU  DUEL. 

A  Michigander  being  out  on  advanced  picket  duty  one 
day,  came  in  sight  of  a  South  Carolina  rebel,  also  on  simi- 
lar duty,  when  the  following  dialogue  and  duel  took 
place. 

Michigan.  ''Hallo,  South  Carolina,  how  are  you,  to- 
day?" 


AN  IMPROMPTU  DUEL.  207 

Soutli  Caroliua.  "  Pretty  well,  thank  you.  How  are  all 
the  Yankees?" 

M.  "  So  so.     What's  the  news  over  in  Dixie  ?" 

S.  "Nothing  in  particular,  only  we  have  got  some 
rifles  now  that  will  out-shoot  your  Yankee  guns,  all  hol- 
low." 

M.  "Don't  believe  the  yarn.  You  seceshers  brag  too 
much.     Can't  fool  your  pap  on  that  trigger." 

S.  "Suppose,  then,  you  and  I  just  take  a  few  private 
passes  at  each  other  to  settle  that  Httle  question.  What 
say  you  ?" 

M.  "  Agreed.     Forty  rods  and  three  shots  each." 

The  question  then  arose  as  to  the  preliminaries,  &c., 
there  being  no  parties  present  to  act  as  seconds.  These 
were,  however,  soon  settled  by  South  Carolina  giving 
Michigan  a  gold  dollar  for  the  first  three  shots!  The  par- 
ties then  took  their  positions,  and  South  Carolina  blazed 
away  his  three  sliots  at  jMichigan,  who  stood  erect  and 
pointed  out  to  South  ,  Carolina  the  direction  each  of  his 
shots  had  taken.  Michigan  escaped  unhurt,  and  now 
came  his  turn  to  fire.  South  Carolina,  to  liis  credit  be  it 
said,  stood  erect,  and  received  Michigan's  first  shot  in  the 
thigh,  which  brought  him  down  upon  the  ground. 

"  riellow,  old  fellow,  none  of  that,"  said  Michigan,  "  no 
dodging  the  question ;  stand  up  like  a  man,  will  you? 
You  oive  me  two  d — d  good  shots,  and  you  must  pay  them, 
mind  that,  or  no  more  bragging  about  chivalry^ 

But  South  Carolina,  having  one  leg  broken  already  by 
a  shot  from  Michigan's  unerring  Minie  musket,  could 
not  stand  on  both  pegs  of  his  chivalry,  and,  therefore, 
squatted,  and  consequently  cheated  our  honest  Michi- 
gander  out  of  'Hivo  d — d  good  sh^ts,^^  and  thus  eiidec^  thia 
funny  impromptu  duel. 


208  HOW  IKE  BAKER  WAS  WHIPPED. 


HOW  IKE  BAEKEE  WAS  WHIPPED. 

Upon  a  certain  day,  somewhere  about  the  middle  of 
August,  1862,  we  were  stationed  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  in 
a  thick  wood  commanding  a  full  view  of  the  main  road. 
I  was  sent  that  morning  to  stand  guard  on  the  other  side 
of  the  hill,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant.  In  front  of  me 
was  a  large  meadow  inclosed  by  a  worm  fence,  which 
cornered  about  two  hundred  yards  from  where  I  stood, 
and  then  took  off'  at  a  right  angle  and  was  lost  lo  view 
in  a  deep  hollow  beyond.  There  was  a  small  stream 
running  through  the  meadow,  which  seemed  to  lake  its 
rise  in  the  corner  before-mentioned.  The  weather  was 
intensely  hot,  and  I  was  very  thirsty.  The  water  in  my 
canteen  was  warm,  and  did  me  no  good.  "  I  have  a  great 
notion,"  soliloquized  I,  "  to  go  and  fill  my  canteen  at  the 
spring  yonder,  if  there  is  one."  I  knew  this  Avould  not 
be  allowed  ;  our  sergeant  had  given  me  particular  orders 
not  to  expose  myself  in  the  clearing,  as  there  was  danger 
of  my  being  picked  off'  by  some  of  the  enemy's  pickets, 
who  were  supposed  to  be  in  the  neighborhood.  My 
thirst,  however,  became  so  intolerable,  I  determined  to 
risk  it. 

I  left  my  knapsack  at  the  root  of  a  tree,  and  taking  my 
rifle  and  canteen,  stepped  boldly  out  into  the  open  ground, 
and  soon  reached  the  fence.  -  I  crept  cautiously  along  it 
until  I  reached  the  corner ;  here  I  paused  for  a  few  mi- 
nutes and  listened  intently,  but  could  hear  nothing.  I 
stood  my  rifle  in  the  corner  of  the  fence,  and  sprang 
lightly  over.  There  was  a  piece  of  level  green  sward  in 
the  corner  of  the  field,  which  broke  off'  suddenly  into  a 
deep,  rocky  gorge.  In  approaching  the  edge  I  disco- 
vered a  steep,  narrow  path  leading  to  the  bottom.  I 
carefully  descended,  soon  reaching  the  bottom,  and  turn- 
ing the  angle  of  a  large  rock  discovered,  as  I  expected, 
the  spring,  and  close  beside  it,  to  my  utter  astonishment, 


HOW  IKE  BARKER  WAS  WHIPPED.  209 

sat  a  rebel  soldier  smoking  Lis  pipe.  He  did  not  seem  to 
be  the  least  disconcerted  at  my  appearance,  but  coolly 
taking  the  pipe  froia  his  mouth,  surveyed  me  intently  for 
a  few  minutes. 

"  Hallo,  Yankee  1"  said  he,  "  how  many's  of  ye  ?" 

"  I  am  alone,"  I  replied. 

"All  right,"  said  tlie  rebel,  resuming  his  pipe  and 
puffing  away  vigorously.  "  Water,  eh  ?"  continued  he, 
pointing  toward  the  spring.  "  There  it  is,  cool  as  ice, 
clear  as  glass,  and  plenty  in  it.     Ilelp  yourself." 

I  accordingly  took  his  advice,  stepped  to  the  spring, 
and  filling  my  canteen,  took  a  hearty  drink  of  the  cool, 
delicious  beverage.  I  then  refilled  my  canteen,  and  pre- 
pared to  depart,  not  relishing  the  close  proximity  of  my 
new  acquaintance. 

"  On  picket  duty,  eh  ?"  inquired  the  rebeh 

I  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Ditto  here,"  said  secesh. 

"  Well,  I'll  bid  you  good  day,"  said  I.  "  I  must  get 
back  to  my  post,  or  I  shall  be  missed." 

"  Ditto  again,"  said  the  rebel ;  "  but  don't  be  in  a  hurry, 
Yankee,  I  am  going  to  start  myself,  and  we'll  be  com- 
pany." The  rebel  then  arose,  knocked  out  the  ashes 
from  his  j^ipe,  and  placed  it  carefully  in  the  lining  of  his 
hat. 

"  Go  ahead,  Yankee,"  pointing  to  the  pathway.  "  I'll 
follei-." 

I  did  not  like  the  appearance  of  my  new  acquaintance. 
He  was  a  man  of  herculean  proportions,  and  there  was  a 
look  in  his  eye  that  I  thought  boded  mischief.  I,  however, 
started  up  the  narrow  path,  and  soon  reached  the-  level 
sward,  closely  followed  by  secesh. 

"■  Yankee,"  said  he,  placing  his  heavy  hand  on  my 
shoulder,  "them's  a  darn'dnation  good  pair  of  shoes  you 
have  on,  a  mighty  good  pair  of  shoes,  powerful.  !Nur.^L.er 
tens,  ain't  they  ?" 

I  told  him  I  believed  they  were  that  number. 
U 


210  now  IKE  BARKER  WAS  WHIPPED. 

"I  knew  it,"  said  he,  nodding  liis  head.  "I  was  sure 
on  it.  Number  ten  is  just  mj  lit.  "What  will  you  take 
for  them,  Yankee  ?" 

I  told  liim  I  did  not  wish  to  sell  them,  as  they  were  the 
only  pair  I  had. 

"  Look  here,  Yankee,"  said  he,  meaningly,  "  I  need  them 
shoes,  and  I'm  bound  to  have  'em.  I  might  take  yuu 
along,  shoes  and  all,  to  our  camp,  but  then  I  mightn't 
get  them,  and  I  might  kill  you  and  take  the  shoes,  but  I 
ain't  in  that  sort  of  business.  Now  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll 
do,  Yankee.  I'll  give  you  a  eight  for  your  shoes  in  Ala- 
bama money,  good  as  wheat  in  the  mill.  You'd  better 
take  it,  for  I'm  bound  to  have  them  shoes  anjdiow !" 

"  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Mr.  Kebel,"  said  I,  for  I  began 
to  be  rather  nettled,  "I  won't  sell  the  shoes,  and  if  you 
think  you  can  get  them  in  any  other  way,  just  try  it  on." 

"Hurrah  for  you,  Yankee,"  said  he,  nodding  approv- 
ingly. "You're  pluck  to  the  backbone,  but  it  ain't  no 
vise ;  here's  what'U  settle  the  hash  at  once,"  and,  thrusting 
Ills  hand  into  his  bosom,  be  drew  forth  a  lars^e  bowie- 
knife,  and  }Kjinting  it  towards  me,  said,  "  Now,  Yankee, 
I  ax(;s  you  I'or  the  last  time,  v/ill  you  give  up  the  shoes?" 

"No,"  said  I,  "I  wont;  I'll  die  first." 

"  Then  die  and  be  d — d,"  roared  he,  making  a  sudden 
plunge  at  m^''  breast;  but  I  was  too  quick  for  him.  I 
sprang  nimbly  back,  and  with  my  right  foot  gave  him  a 
violent  kick  on  the  hand.  It  sent  the  knife  spinning  into 
the  air;  in  its  descent  it  struck  a  rock  and  bounded  far 
away  into  the  hollow  beneath. 

"  Well,  Yankee,"  said  the  rebel,  rubbing  his  hands, 
"you  think  you've  done  it  now,  don't  you  I  Them's 
mighty  strong  soles  on  them  shoes  of  yourn,  powerful 
strong ;  but  it  only  makes  me  the  more  anxious  to  get 
them ;  you  think,  because  the  knife's  gone,  you're  safe ; 
but  you  ain't;  here's  what'U  choke  the  liie  out  of  you 
in  double  quick  time,"  opening  and  shutting  his  fingers. 
"Do  you  know  who  I  am?     I'm  Ike  Barker,  I  am,  the 


HOW  IKE  BARKER  WAS  WHIPPED.  211 

Alabama  ring-tail-roarer,  half  horse,  half  alligator,  the 
other  half  boa-constrictor,  never  was  whopp'd  or  laid  on 
my  back  by  man  or  mortal.  Yankee,"  continued  he, 
drawing  off'his  coat  and  rolling  up  his  sleeves,  "look  at 
this ;  there's  muscle,  there's  sinners ;  this,"  said  he,  crook- 
ing and  straightening  his  arm,  "  is  the  axletree  of  the 
world ;  and  this,"  baring  his  other  arm,  "  is  the  sledge- 
hammer of  destruction;  you  may  be  a  pretty  good  man 
among  Yankees,  but  I'm  a  man  among  men,  and  I  jest 
tell  you  what  it  is,  if  you  don't  give  up  them  shoes  at 
once,  vou're  a  gone  sucker ;  that's  what  you  are." 

"  There  is  only  one  way  for  you  to  get  the  shoes,"  re- 
plied I,  "  and  that  is  to  come  and  take  them.  But  I  warn 
you,  you  will  be  very  apt  to  get  hurt." 

"  Darn  the  odds,"  rei)lied  he,  "  I  ain't  afeared.  Now 
look  out  for  yourself,  Yankee,  for  I'm  down  on  you  like 
a  thousand  of  bricks." 

So  saying,  he  stepped  a  step  or  two  back,  sprang  lightly 
up.  and  came  bounding  towards  me ;  then,  stopping  sud- 
denly, before  I  was  aware  of  it,  caught  me  round  the 
waist,  and  threw  me  heavily  to  the  ground.  But  you 
know,  George,  it  is  pretty  hard  to  hold  me  down  in  a 
scuffle;  I  was  on  my  feet  again  in  an  instant,  and  had 
disengaged  myself  from  my  powerful  antagonist.  We 
once  more  stood  face  to  face  on  the  green  sward. 

"  Well,  Yankee,"  said  he,  eying  me  curiously,  "you're 
gome  in  a  bar  figlit,  I  swar  you  are !  But  I'll  have  them 
shoes  yet,  I  will,  by  thunder." 

And  again  he  stepped  back,  preparatory  to  making 
another  rush  at  me.  I  did  not  wait  for  him  to  come  on 
this  time,  but,  rushing  in,  planted  my  right  fist  heavily 
between  his  eyes,  which  nearly  knocked  him  down,  I 
endeavored  to  follow  up  with  my  left,  but  did  not  quite 
reach  him,  and  he  again  closed  with  me.  This  time  we 
took  a  fair  back  hold.  This  was  my  favorite  mode  of 
wrestling,  and  you  know,  George,  I  have  wrestled  with 
Bome  of  the  best  men  in  the  country  with  that  hold,  and 


212  HOW  IKE  BARKER  WAS  WHIPPED. 

never  have  been  thrown  on  my  back  yet.  But  I  got  my 
match  this  time.  I  strained  every  nerve,  tried  every 
manoeuvre,  but  all  to  no  purpose ;  he  was  my  equal  in 
science,  and  had  the  advantage  of  me  in  strength. 

Our  deadly  struggle  had  now  brought  us  close  to  the 
edge  of  the  gorge,  my  strength  was  fast  leaving  me,  and 
I  knew,  unless  something  was  done  at  once,  I  should  soon 
be  as  the  rebel  predicted — "  a  gone  sucker !"  The  ground 
on  which  we  were  now  struggling  sloped  towards  the 
gorge.  I  was  on  the  lower  side.  The  rebel  pressed  me 
bard,  thinking  to  throw  me  over.  I  suddenly  let  go  my 
hold,  slipped  down  through  his  arms,  caught  him  by  the 
legs,  and,  with  an  almost  superhuman  effort,  threw  him 
over  my  head,  falling  on  the  ground  at  the  same  time 
myself  nearly  exhausted.  When  I  again  rose  to  my  feet 
I  saw  my  antagonist  Uors  de  combat. 

In  his' fall  his  head  had  struck  a  rock,  and  there  he  lay 
stunned  and  hardly  able  to  move.  I  picked  up  my  can- 
teen, and  hurrying  down  to  the  spring,  I  took  a  hearty 
drink  of  the  cool,  delicious  water;  then,  securing  the 
rebel's  bowie-knife,  which  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  iind, 
I  again  ascended  to  look  after  my  fallen  antagonist.  He'd 
contrived  to  raise  himself  into  a  sitting  posture,  and  was 
rubbing  his  eyes  and  groaning  fearfully. 

"  Hullo,"  said  I,  "  secesh  !  how  are  you  getting  on  ?" 

He  looked  at  me  confusedly  for  a  while,  like  one 
awakened  from  a  dream,  then,  shaking  his  head  dolefully, 
he  exclaimed,  in  a  lugubrious  voice — 

"  Ike  Barker's  whopped !  Whopped,  too,  by  a  cussed 
Yankee.     O— o— oh  !" 

"  How  is  it  about  the  shoes  ?"  said  I,  preparing  to  take 
my  leave. 

""  It's  all  up  with  them,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head,  "  gone, 
gone !  Number  tens,  too !  Just  mv  fit !  O — o— oh  !  bo  ! 
bo!" 

I  handed  him  his  canteen  of  water,  and  left  him  groan- 
in  <ir  and  beraoanino;  the  loss  of  the  new  shoes.     I  found 


LIFE  AT  ELK  HORN  TAVERN.  213 

my  rifle  where  I  bad  left  it,  and  soon  regained  my  post. 
quite  satisfied  to  be  so  well  rid  of  my  powerful  antagonist. 


LIPE  AT  ELK  HOEN  TAVEEN. 

On  the  10th  of  Kovember,  1862,  the  writer  was  ordered 
from  Springfield,  Missouri,  to  Elk  Horn  Tavern  to  take 
command  of  the  first  and  second  battalions  of  the  First 
Arkansas  Cavalry  Volunteers,  then  holding  the  post. 
At  that  time,  the  second  and  third  divisions  of  the  Army 
of  the  Frontier  had  fiillen  back  into  Missouri,  and  the 
first,  Gen.  Blunt  commanding,  Avas  in  camp  on  Lindsey's 
Prairie,  near  the  line  between  northwestern  Arkansas  and 
the  Cherokee  Nation.  Elk  Horn  Tavern,  situated  on 
Pea  Ridge,  Arkansas,  and  itself  the  centre  of  the  fiercest 
fighting  of  the  three  days'  conflict  of  March  of  that  year, 
is  a  rude  old-fashioned  structure,  on  the  Virginian  model 
of  a  hundred  years  gone.  Its  overhanging  roof  and  capa- 
cious chimneys,  built  up  sturdily  from  the  outside,  aa 
though  scorning  modern  improvements,  gave  it  an  air  of 
comfort,  and  in  the  days  of  the  over-land  mail,  its  good 
cheer  was  most  ample. 

At  the  time  we  mention,  it  was  an  outpost  for  the  main 
body  of  the  Army  of  the  Frontier,  then  lying  from  forty 
to  fifty  miles  east  of  it.  Gen.  Blunt  was  forty  miles 
nearly  due  west,  but  relied  on  this  post  to  facilitate  his 
dispatches  to  Gen.  Curtis,  commanding  the  Department 
of  Missouri. 

The  military  telegraph  had  lately  been  contiriued  to 
Elk  Horn,  and  it  was  therefore  of  great  importance  to 
hold  the  post. 

There  was  no  intermediate  office  between  Elk  Horn 
and  Springfield — strange,  too,  that  there  was  none  at 
Cassville — and  had  the  post  been  abandoned,  two  days' 
hard  riding  by  messengers,  with  all  the  delays  and 
dangers  incident  thereto^  would  have  been  added  to  the 


214  LIFE  AT  ELK  HORN  TAVERN. 

vexations — always  numerous  enough — of  keeping  up  a 
long  line  of  communication.  Moreover,  the  place  was 
threatened  by  guerrillas,  an  insignificant  enemy  when  the 
movements  of  a  grand  army  are  considered,  but  by  no 
means  to  be  sneered  at  in  defending  outposts,  generally 
weak  in  numbers,  and  always  hazardous  in  position. 

Such  was  Elk  Horn  Tavern — a  town  of  one  house— on 
the  14th  day  of  November,  1862.  Scarcely  had  the  writer 
arrived,  when  information  came  in  that  the  wires  had 
been  cut.  Keitsville,  as  pestiferous  a  place  as  can  be 
found  above  ground,  lay  ten  miles  northeasterly,  and  a 
detachment  was  at  once  sent  up  the  road  to  trace  the 
depredators  and  repair  damages.  The  evidences  of  the 
mischief  were  discovered  near  the  town  referred  to,  but 
the  wilv  rascals  who  caused  it  had  taken  to  the  "brush." 
Administering  some  wholesome  advice  to  the  inhabitants 
of  the  neighborhood,  that  closed  with  the  significant 
intimation  "that  if  the  offence  was  repeated,  not  a  house 
woukl  be  left  standing  for  miles  along  the  highway,  the 
officer  in  command  returned  with  his  ]iarty  to  Elk  Horn. 
The  threat  had  its  efi'ect,  and  for  weeks  the  line  was  un- 
disturbed. 

On  the  morning  of  the  15th,  a  scouting  party  was  sent 
out  under  the  command  of  Captain  W — .  of  company  H,  to 
scour  the  country  adjacent  to  White  Eiver,  to  rescue  five 
men  who  had  recently  been  captured  by  Ingraham's  band, 
and,  if  possible,  "  take  in  "  Ingraham  himself.  While  out, 
there  occurred  a  fight  in  the  dark.  Ingraham,  however, 
was  not  captured,  and  still  continued  his  robbing  and 
retreating.  The  same  day  were  furnished  twenty-five 
men  to  escort  the  daughters  of  Isaac  Murphy  to  their 
home  in  Huntsville,  forty  miles  distant.  On  the  morrow, 
arriving  within  a  mile  and  a  half  of  the  place,  it  was 
deemed  prudent  to  allow  the  yoimg  ladies  to  go  on  alone. 
There  were  no  appearances  of  danger,  no  rumors  afloat, 
and  the  men  were  permitted  to  dismount.  They  had 
stopped  at  the  base  of  a  small  hill,  near  an  intersection 


LIFE  AT  ELK  HORN  TAVERN.  215 

oP  roads,  and  the  surrounding  country  was  favorable  for 
a  surprise.  Suddenly  between  sixty  and  seventy  horse- 
men dashed  in  upon  them.  A  few  sprang  into  the  sad- 
dle. Others  were  unable  to,  and  took  to  the  woods,  and 
still  others  were  captured.  A  feeble  resistance  was  made, 
and  those  who  escaped  were  very  much  inclined  to  sa}'', 
each  to  the  other,  ^r«^  not  your  irust  in  appearances. 

The  detachment,  save  the  prisoners,  seven  in  number, 
came  finally  into  camp,  and  all  reports  concurred  in  the 
fact,  that  the  attack  was  made  by  regulars  aided  by  a 
number  of  home  guards.  The  information  was  import- 
ant enouo-h  to  wan-ant  reconnoitring,  and  accordingly, 
on  the  17th  inst.,  Major  Johnson,  commanding  the  first 
battalion,  was  sent  out  with  a  detachment  of  two  hundred 
men,  with  orders  to  penetrate  as  far  as  Huntsville  if  he 
should  consider  it  prudent  to  do  so,  at  all  events  to  ascer- 
tain whether  any  considerable  force  had  actually  moved 
up  from  below.  Such  a  demonstration  was  not  improba- 
ble, for  many  of  the  Alissourians  in  the  Trans-Mississippi 
army  were  known  to  be  disaffected,  and  clamoring  for  an 
advance  in  the  direction  of  their  homes.  Starting  in  a 
severe  rain  storm  that  continued  for  thirty-six  hours  with- 
out cessation,  Major  Johnson  forded  White  River  with 
difficulty,  and  then  pushed  on  rapidly  towards  Huntsville. 
When  within  ten  miles  of  the  town,  he  was  met  by  loyal 
citizens,  known  to  be  such,  who  confirmed  the  surmises 
then  current  at  Elk  Horn,  even  among  citizens  of  Hunts- 
ville, that  there  was  at  that  place  at  least  a  brigade  of 
rebel  soldiery. 

Major  Johnson  now  threw  out  his  scouts,  placing  a 
trusty  officer  in  charge,  who  reported  a  confirmation  of 
the  previous  statements,  and  added  to  their  definiteness 
by  rehearsing  the  story  of  certain  persons,  who  declared 
solemnly  that  they  had  themselves  seen  cannon  in  the 
streets  of  Huntsville,  pointed  in  the  direction  in  which 
the  Federals  were  expected  to  approach.  The  White 
River  was  now  rising  rapidly,  and  the  danger  of  being 


216  LIFE  AT  ELK  HORN  TAVERN. 

cut  off  serious,  in  case  a  retreat  should  become  necessary. 
Those  who  ought  to  know  had  informed  Major  Johnson 
of  the  condition  of  affairs  at  Huntsville,  and  having  been 
ordered  out  to  reconnoitre  simply,  he  wisely  concluded 
to  return  before  the  White  River  should  effectually  bar 
hirn.  His  command  Avere  compelled  to  swim  the  stream, 
a^  it  was,  and  two  horses  were  drowned. 

But  the  sequel  showed  how  a  party  of  reconnoissance 
can  be  deceived.  There  had  only  been  at  Huntsville 
those  who  attacked  the  escort,  mostly  Jackman's  men, 
and  these  secretly  rrtade  their  way  into  Missouri,  directly 
after  the  skirmish.  Madame  Rumor,  and  citizens  whose 
selfish  fear  of  a  foraging  party  was  more  powerful  than 
their  patriotism,  ruled  the  hour,  and  dispatches  were  for- 
warded to  head-quarters  that  would  have  answered  very 
well  as  addenda  to  "  The  Arabian  Nights"  or  "Sinbad 
the  Sailor." 

There  were  at  this  time  in  confinement  at  Elk  Horn, 
certain  citizens  of  Arkansas,  against  whom  charges  had 
been  preferred  for  offences  known  to  military  law. 

Among  them  was  one  John  Bell.  On  the  morning  of 
the  16th,  his  wife  drove  within  the  pickets,  accompanied 
by  a  lady  well  dressed  and  intelligent.  Her  conduct 
exciting  the  suspicion  of  a  refugee  at  Elk  Horn,  she  was 
arrested.  Of  course,  she  must  know  why,  and  expressed 
very  great  surprise  that  she  should  be  so  severely  dealt 
with.  She  declared  positively  that  she  came  simply  as 
a  companion  to  Mrs.  Bell,  and  to  aid  in  effecting  the  re- 
lease of  her  husband.  Moreover,  that  she  had  left  her 
"  little  one"  at  Fayetteville,  and  was  very  anxious  to  return 
to  him.  Upon  further  inquiry  the  "little  one"  proved  to 
be  a  boy  thirteen  years  of  age,  and  her  general  conduct 
continuing  to  be  suspicious,  it  was  concluded  that  she 
would  "do  to  hold." 

The  tavern  was  occupied  in  part  by  the  wife  and  family 
of  its  owner,  then  in  the  rebel  army,  and  with  them  Mrs. 
Vestal    was   domiciled.     She   was   frequently   observed 


LIFE  AT  ELK  HORN  TAVERN.  217 

looking  searcliingly  down  the  Fayetteville  road,  and  often 
inquired  for  newsjmpers,  alwaj's  wishing  the  latest.  Like 
a  true  student  of  the  times,  she  invariably  scanned  the 
telegraphic  columns  first,  and  seemed  to  be  deeply  inte- 
rested in  the  war  budget.     She  was  a  puzzle  to  ns  all. 

and  on  the  17th,  Capt.  H ,  of  Texas,  then  at  Elk  Horn 

with  a  number  of  Texans,  who  were  making  their  way 
homeward  with  the  view  of  raising  a  regiment,  was 
granted  the  privilege  of  taking  such  a  course  as  he  might 
choose  to  adopt  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  lier  real 
character.  By  arrangement,  it  was  represented  to  Mrs. 
Vestal  that  an  imprisoned  Texan  captain  Avished,  if  agree- 
able, to  have  an  interview  with  her.  It  had  been  pre- 
viously ascertained  that  she  had  travelled  in  Texas,  and 
the  request  was  eagerly  acceded  to.  Arrayed  in  "but- 
ternut" of  the   most  approved   color,  Capt.  H was 

marched  to  her  apartment  under  guard,  the  sentry  re- 
maining at  the  door.  He  introduced  himself  as  Captain 
Watrous,  of  Hunt  County,  a  veritable  ofScer  in  the  rebel 
arm}^,  and  soon  acquired  her  confidence.  She  now  in- 
formed him  that  she  had  left  Van  Buren  on  the  Tuesday 
previous;  that  .between  twenty  thousand  and  thirty 
thousand  men  were  assembled  there  and  in  the  vicinity; 
that  the  cavalry  advance  was  at  Cane  Hill,  and  that 
thirty  days'  rations  were  being  prepared  for  a  forward 
movement. 

She  further  exhorted  him  to  be  of  good  cheer ;  told 
him  th.at  he  need  not  be  uneasy  about  his  situation,  and 
that  if  he  should  reach  the  Confederate  army  before  she 
did,  he  must  not  fail  to  inform  a  certain  Missouri  regi- 
ment of  her  arrest  and  detention. 

"But,  c^iptain,"  at  length  shrewdly  suggested  his  fair 
confidant,  "I  did  not  see  you  in  the  guard-house  this 
morning  when  I  visited  it  with  Mrs.  Bell." 

"Oh  !  I  am  an  officer,"  was  the  ready  reply,  "and  they 
allow  me  the  liberty  of  the  camps."  But  the  position 
was  becoming   critical,  and  Watrous  thought  it  about 


218  LIFE  AT  ELK  HORN  TAVERN. 

time  to  beat  a  retreat.  He  therefore  excused  himself, 
not  wishing  to  intrude  too  much  upon  the  lady's  time, 
and  signifying  to  the  guard  his  readiness  to  be  taken 
away,  bowed  himself  out,  and  Avas  formally  marched  off. 
The  following  morning,  this  Vestal,  in  name  at  least,  was 
taken  to  Cassville,  thence  to  be  forwarded  to  the  Provost 
JNIarshal  General,  at  Springfield.  Mrs.  Bell  remained  at 
Elk  Horn  long  enough  to  find  out  that  her  husband  could 
not  return  with  her,  when  she  departed  for  home,  a  sadder 
but  a  wiser  women.  While  Mrs.  Vestal's  case  was  under 
consideration,  and  a  military  commission  was  sitting, 
events  were  thickening  below. 

On  the  15th,  General  Blunt  had  telegraphed  that  Mar- 
mad  uke,  with  five  thousand  cavalry  and  four  pieces  of 
artillery,  was  at  Rhea's  Mill  on  the  14th,  and  that  Ilindman 
with  a  large  infantry  force  was  coming  up  from  Mulberry 
Creek  to  join  him.  He,  nevertheless,  expressed  the  de- 
termination to  fight  them,  but  desired  active  scouting  in 
the  direction  of  Elm  Springs,  Fayetteville,  and  the  White 
River.  The  enemy,  however,  fell  back  across  the  Boston 
Mountains,  and  for  a  time  it  was  thought  by  those  who 
wear  the  stars,  that  he  would  retreat,  not  only  to  Van 
Buren,  but  thence  to  Little  Rock.  These  conjectures 
proved  to  be  incorrect.  Marmaduke  again  advanced, 
and  General  Blunt,  to  cripple  the  enemy  before  they 
should  be  able  to  concentrate,  made  a  forced  march  of 
thirty-five  miles,  and  attacked  the  rebel  cavalry  at  Cane 
Hill,  driving  them  back  in  disorder  to  the  Boston  Moun- 
tains. He  now  took  a  position  and  awaited  developments. 
It  soon  became  apparent  that  Hindman  was  intending  a 
general  advance,  and  dispatches  for  head-quarters  cam© 
"thick  and  fast"  to  Elk  Horn. 

Though  General  Blunt  is  the  personification  of  bravery, 
and,  when  the  danger  was  imminent  of  being  attacked  by 
far  superior  numbers,  could  characteristically  predict 
"one  of  the  d — dest  fights  or  foot  races  ever  heard  oty 
he  was  not  unmindful  of  the  necessity  for  reinforcements. 


LIFE  AT  ELK  HORN  TAVERN.  219 

More  than  once  he  telegraphed  to  bring  forward  the 
second  and  third  divisions,  but  their  advance  was  tardy, 
and  when  General  Herron  arrived  at  Elk  Horn  at  noon, 
on  the  5th  of  December,  Blunt's  pickets  were  engaging 
the  rebel  vanguard.  While  these  events  were  passing, 
the  cavalry  at  Elk  Horn  were  not  idle. 

Orders  were  received  to  scout  thoroughly  to  Yelville, 
seventy-five  miles  in  one  direction ;  to  Huntsville,  forty- 
five  miles  in  another  ;  and  indefinitely  towards  Fayette- 
ville,  and  beyond. 

Formal  instruction  from  the  commanding  officer  showed, 
as  was  expected,  but  two  battalions  of  cavalry,  who  had 
never  been  one  hour  in  a  camp  of  instruction ;  and,  though 
now  in  the  service  from  eight  to  nine  months,  under  the 
most  distressing  circumstances,  and  called  out  by  special 
order  from  the  War  Department,  had,  up  to  this  time, 
been  only  partially  clothed — there  was  not  an  overcoat 
in  the  line — and  had  never  been  paid.  Added  to  this, 
they  were  not  attached  to  any  division  in  the  Army  of 
the  Frontier.  Campaigning  by  itself,  the  regiment  was 
ordered  first  by  one  general  and  then  another — the  inno- 
cent shuttlecok  between  distant  battledoors. 

But  the  men  knew  the  country  where  they  were  ope- 
rating. They  were  on  their  native  hills,  again,  and  were 
active  and  zealous  in  their  eflbrts  to  support  that  govern- 
ment, lo^^alty  to  which  had  caused  them  so  much  suffer- 
ing. Scouting  was  maintained  with  vigor.  Frequent 
inroads  were  made  into  the  enemy's  country — a  party 
striking  here  to-day  and  there  to-morrow — now  moving 
around  Fayetteville,  and  driving  in  Marmaduke's  pickets 
at  Cane  Hill,  and  again  dashing  into  Huntsville,  or 
fighting  the  "  bushwhackers"  of  Carroll  County  after 
their  own  method.  At  the  same  time  men  were  needed 
to  keep  open  telegraphic  communication  with  the  East, 
and  occasionally  to  forward  messages  of  the  first  import- 
ance to  General  Blunt. 

Within  the  lines  of  the  post,  matters  were  more  quiets 


220  LIFE  AT  ELK  nOUN  TAVERX. 

The  "tavern"  soon  became  a  central  point  for  the  neigh- 
borhood,  many  of  the  citizens  being  attracted  to  it  by 
their  own  necessities,  and  some,  no  doubt,  from  motives 
that  would  not  bear  the  test  of  scrutiny.  Women  on 
horseback,  with  boys  en  c7-oiipe,  and  sacks  in  their  hands, 
clamored  for  salt.  Twenty-five  cents  a  quart,  payable  in 
eggs,  butter,  chickens,  money,  the  genuine  ringing  silver, 
anything  for  the  saline  treasure.  Had  Lot's  wife  been 
crystallized  at  Elk  Horn,  the  monument  of  her  disobe- 
dience would  have  been  hailed  as  manna  from  above. 

We  had  taken  with  ns,  for  individual  use,  a  bushel  of 
"fine  table,"  and  it  so  happened  that  just  at  that  time  no 
one  else  had  any  to  spare.  The  persistent  women  soon 
found  this  out,  and  we  were  compelled  to  go  to  bartering 
for  our  mess.  It  availed  nothing  to  insist  that  we  had  al- 
ready traded  for  fifteen  chickens,  had  ten  quails,  and  more 
butter  and  eggs  than  we  knew  what  to  do  with. 

"No,  you  must  give  me  at  least  a  quart.  You  have 
sold  Mrs.  Jones  and  Mrs.  Smith  some,  and  I  need  it  as 
much  as  they  do.  Now  you  haven't  got  any  pies,  and 
I've  some  of  the  nicest  you  ever  saw.  I  dried  the 
peaches  myself^  We  took  the  pies,  and  when  that 
bushel  of  salt  disappeared,  made  light  drafts  on  the  com- 
missary. 

Pi-isoners  w^ere  frequently  brought  in,  poor,  ignorant, 
deluded  men,  the  rough  work  of  the  rebellion.  Exami- 
nations were  protracted  or  otherwise,  according  to  cir- 
cumstances, and,  aside  from  their  revelation  of  the  dark 
phases  of  this  revolt,  the  terrible  effect  of  secession  upon 
the  poor  and  confiding,  their  occasional  ludicrousness  is 
deserving  possibly  of  a  passing  notice. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?"  said  the  provost-marshal  to  one 
of  them. 

"Which?" 

"  What  is  your  name,  I  say  ?"  repeated  the  officer. 

"Still." 

"  I  know  ;  but  what  is  your  first  name  ?" 


LIFE  AT  ELK  HORN  TAVERN.  221 

"  No,  it  isn't,"  chimed  in  his  wife,  pettishly.  "  Lilburn 
J.     Can't  you  understand  the  provo  ?" 

"  Well,"  continued  the  marshal,  "  what  does  the  J.  stand 
for?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  no  scholar,"  replied  the  imper- 
turbable Still. 

"  That  all  may  be,"  said  the  marshal,  now  a  little  vexed, 
"but  you  certainly  must  know  what  that  J.  means." 

"  I  don't,  sir ;  I  didn't  put  it  there.  You'll  have  to  ask 
pap,  I  reckon." 

The  provost-marshal,  now  concluding  that  some  other 
person  would  certainly  have  to  be  interrogated  before 
the  point  could  be  cleared  up,  proceeded  with  the  other 
features  of  the  case. 

One  day  in  December,  the  pickets  brought  in  a  seedy, 
sallow,  vagabond-looking  individual,  wearing  an  old 
straw  hat,  and  clothed  otherwise  in  the  ubiquitous  "but, 
ternut."  He  represented  himself  as  from  Lawrence  Coun- 
ty, Missouri,  whither  he  was  travelling  with  a  sick  wife. 
Further  inquiry  drew  from  him  the  assertion  that  he  had 
been  conscripted  into  the  rebel  service,  and  belonged  to 
Bryant's  battalion.  He  seemed  familiar  also  with  the 
topography  of  Benton  County,  and  spoke  freely  of  pro- 
minent rebels  living  there. 

"When  brought  to  headquarters,  it  so  happened  that  a 
lieutenant  from  Benton  County  was  in  the  room.    While 

questioning  the  man  pretty  sharply,  Capt.  W ,  likewise 

from  Benton,  came  to  the  door. 

Hearing  his  own  name  mentioned,  and  seeing  at  once 
what  was  going  on,  a  sly  wink  from  the  lieutenant  turned 
the  case  over  to  him. 

"  Where  did  you  say  you  have  been  ?" 

"  In  the  Southern  army ;  I  was  conscripted." 

"  Where  do  you  live  ?" 

"In  Lawrence  County,  Missouri,  when  I  am  to  home." 
"  They  don't  conscript  up  there,"  continued  the  captain. 


222  LIFE  AT  ELK  HORN  TAVERN. 

"  "Well,  I  run  down  liar  to  git  out  of  the  way  of  the  ar- 
my, and  they  picked  me  up,"  replied  the  prisoner,  not  at 
all  disturbed. 

"You  are  acquainted  in  Benton  County,  I  under- 
stand ?" 

'•  I  am  that,"  with  emphasis, 

"  You  mentioned  Wimpy's  name  a  little  while  ago. 
Wimpy,  "Wimpy  !"  said  the  captain  thoughtfully,  "  what 
Wimpy  was  that  ?" 

"  Dick  Wimpy.     He's  a  '  Fed'  captain." 

"  You  know  him,  of  course,  when  you  see  him,"  con- 
tinued the  captain  inquiringly,  and  looking  him  steadily 
in  the  face. 

"  I  reckon  I  do,"  replied  the  prisoner,  with  a  confident 
air.  "  I  was  at  his  house  oncst ;  but  I  know  his  wife  a 
heap  better  than  I  do  him.  He  was  away  most  of  the 
time." 

.  This  was  consoling,  but  the  captain,  seeing  that  he  was 
not  recognized,  besran  again. 

"  Were  the  '  reb^s'  after  Wimpy  ?" 

Prisoner,  knowingly,  "You  better  believe.  They 
watched  his  house." 

"  Who  watched  it  ?" 

"  Wilson  Woodward  was  one." 

"  Anybody  else  ?" 

"I  can't  remember,  now." 

Captain  (still  a  little  curious  to  see  if  the  fellow  did 
really  know  anythinsr  about  him,  for  he  told  the  truth 
when  he  mentioned  Wilson  Woodward)  "  What  sort  of  a 
fellow  is  this  Wimpy?" 

"  Well,  he's  a  brave  chap.  I'd  bet  on  him  quicker  \in 
I  would  on  five  aces^ 

The  captain's  modesty  now  overcame  him,  and  he  beat 
a  retreat,  not,  however,  until  he  had  informed  the  forward 
individual  that  he  was  the  veritable  Wimpy  in  question. 

Five  minutes  afterward  a  blank  countenance  went  to 
the  guard  house. 


ESCAPE  FROM  LIBBY  PRISOIf.  223 


ESCAPE  FEOM  LIBBY  PEISON. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  1863,  the  Union  officers 
confined  in  the  Libby  Prison  at  Eichmond,  Ya.,  conceived 
the  idea  of  effecting  their  own  exchange,  and  after  the 
matter  had  been  seriously  discussed  bv  some  seven  or 
eight  of  them,  they  undertook  to  dig  for  a  distance  towards 
a  sewer  running  into  the  basin.  This  they  proposed  to 
do  by  commencing  at  a  point  in  the  cellar,  near  a  chim- 
ney. This  cellar  was  immediately  under  the  hospital, 
and  was  the  receptacle  for  refuse  straw,  thrown  from 
the  beds  when  they  were  changed,  and  for  other  refuse 
matter.  Above  this  hospital  was  a  room  for  officers,  and 
above  that,  yet  another  room.  The  chimney  ran  thi'ough 
all  these  rooms,  and  the  prisoners  Avho  were  in  the  secret 
improvised  a  rope,  and  night  after  night  let  working  par- 
ties down,  who  successfully  prosecuted  their  excavating 
operations. 

The  dirt  was  hid  under  the  straw  and  other  refuse 
matter  in  the  cellar,  and  it  was  trampled  down  so  as  not 
to  present  so  great  a  bulk.  When  the  working  party 
had  got  to  a  considerable  distance  under  ground  it  was 
found  difficult  to  haul  the  dirt  back  by  hand,  and  a  spit- 
toon, which  had  been  furnished  the  officers  in  one  of  the 
rooms,  was  made  to  serve  the  purpose  of  a  cart.  A  string 
was  attached  to  it  and  it  was  run  into  the  tunnel,  and  as 
soon  as  filled,  was  drawn  out  and  the  dirt  deposited  under 
the  straw,  but  after  hard  work  and  digging  with  finger 
nails,  knives,  and  chisels  a  number  of  feet,  the  working 
party  found  themselves  stopped  by  piles  driven  in  the 
ground.  These  were  at  least  a  foot  in  diameter.  But 
they  were  not  discouraged.  Penknives,  or  any  other 
articles  that  would  cut  were  called  for,  and  after  chipping, 
chipping,  chipping  for  a  long  time,  the  piles  were  severed, 
and  the  tunnellers  commenced  again,  and  in  a  few  momenta 
reached  the  sewer. 


224  ESCAPE  FROM  LIBBY  PRISON. 

But  here  an  unexpected  obstacle  met  their  further 
progress.  The  stench  from  the  sewers  and  the  flow  of 
fihhj  water  was  so  great  that  one  of  the  party  fainted, 
and  was  dragged  out  more  dead  then  alive,  and  the  project 
m  that  direction  had  to  be  abandoned.  The  failure  was 
communicated  to  a  few  others  besides  those  who  had  first 
thought  of  escape,  and  then  a  part}^  of  seventeen,  after 
viewing  the  premises  and  surroundings,  concluded  to 
tunnel  under  Carej  Street.  On  the  opposite  side  of  this 
street  from  the  prison  was  a  sort  of  a  damaged  house  or 
out-house,  and  the  project  was  to  dig  under  the  street  and 
emerge  from  under  or  near  the  house.  There  was  a  high 
fence  around  it,  and  the  guard  was  outside  of  this  fence. 
The  prisoners  then  commenced  to  dig  at  the  other  side 
of  the  chimney,  and  after  a  few  handfuls  of  dirt  had  been 
removed  thej  found  themselves  stopped  by  a  stone  wall, 
which  proved  afterward  to  be  three  feet  thick.  The  party 
were  by  no  means  undaunted,  and  with  penknives  and 
pocketknives  they  commenced  operations  upon  the  stone 
and  mortar. 

After  nineteen  days  and  nights'  hard  work  they  again 
struck  the  earth  beyond  the  wall,  and  pushed  their  work 
forward.  Here,  too  (after  they  had  got  some  distance 
under  ground),  the  friendly  spittoon  was  brought  into 
requisition,  and  the  dirt  was  hauled  out  in  small  quantities. 
After  digging  for  some  days,  the  question  arose  whether 
they  had  not  reached  the  point  aimed  at,  and  in  order  to, 
if  possible,  test  the  matter,  Captain  Gallagher,  of  the 
Second  Ohio  Regiment,  pretended  that  he  had  a  box  in 
the  carriage-house,  ov(?r  the  water,  and  desired  to  search 
it  out.  This  carriage-house,  it  is  proper  to  state,  was  used 
as  a  receptacle  for  boxes  and  goods  sent  to  prisoners  from 
the  North,  and  the  recipients  were  olten  allowed  to  go, 
under  guard,  across  the  street,  to  secure  their  property. 
Captain  Gallagher  was  granted  permission  to  go  there, 
and  as  he  walked  across,  under  guard,  he,  as  well  as  he 


ESCAPE  FROM  LIBBY  PRISON.  225 

<y,<!ild,  pacfe^^  off  the  distance,  and  concluded  that  the  street 
■wsLS  about  fifty  feet  wide. 

On  the  6th  or  7th  of  February.  1864,  the  working  party 
supposed  they  had  gone  a  sufficient  distance,  and  com- 
menced to  dig  upwards.  When  near  the  surface  they 
heard  the  rebel  guards  talking  above  them,  and  discovered 
they  were  some  two  or  three  feet  yet  outside  the  fence. 

The  displacing  of  a  stone  made  considerable  noise,  and 
one  of  the  sentries  called  to  his  comrade  and  asked  him 
what  the  noise  meant.  The  guards,  after  listening  a  few 
minutes,  concluded  that  nothing  was  wrong,  and  returned 
to  their  beats.  This  hole  was  stopped  up  by  inserting 
into  the  crevice  a  pair  of  old  pantaloons  filled  with  straw, 
and  bolstering  the  whole  up  with  boards,  which  they  se- 
cured from  the  floors,  &c.,  of  the  prison.  The  tunnel  was 
then  continued  only  six  or  seven  feet  more,  and  when 
the  working  party  supposed  they  were  about  ready  to 
emerge  into  daylight,  others  in  the  prison  were  informed 
that  there  was  a  way  now  open  for  escape.  One  hundred 
and  nine  of  the  prisoners  decided  to  make  the  attempt 
to  get  away.  Others  refused,  fearing  the  consequences  if 
they  were  re-captured ;  and  others  yet  declined  to  make 
the  attempt,  because,  as  they  said,  they  did  not  desire  to 
have  their  government  back  down  from  its  enunciated 
policy  of  exchange. 

About  8 1  o'oclock  on  the  evening  of  the  9th  the  pri- 
soners started  out,  Colonel  Rose,  of  New  York,  leading 
the  van.  Before  starting,  the  prisoners  had  divided 
themselves  into  squads  of  two,  three,  and  four,  and  each 
equad  was  to  take  a  different  route,  and  after  they  were 
out,  were  to  push  for  the  Union  lines  as  fast  as  possible. 
It  was  the  understanding  that  the  working  party  was  to 
have  an  hour's  start  of  the  other  prisoners,  and  conse- 
quently, the  rope  ladder  in  the  cellar  was  drawn  out. 
Before"^  the  expiration  of  the  hour,  however,  the  other 
prisoners  became  impatient,  and  were  let  down  through 
the  chimney  successfully  into  the  cellar. 
15 


226  ESCAPE  FROM  LIBBY  PRISON. 

Colonel  W.  P  Kendrick.  of  West  Tennessee ;  Captain 
B.  J.  Jones,  of  the  First  Kentucky  Cavalry,  and  Lien- 
tenant  R.  Y.  Bradford,  of  the  Second  West  Tennessee, 
were  detailed  as  a  rear  guard,  or  rather  to  go  out  last; 
nnd  from  a  window  Colonel  Kendrick  and  his  compan- 
ions could  see  the  fugitives  walk  out  of  a  gate  at  the  other 
end  of  the  inclosure  of  the  cairriage  house,  and  fearlessly 
move  off.  The  aperture  was  so  narrow  that  but  one  man 
could  get  through  at  a  time,  and  each  squad  carried  Avith 
them  provisions  in  a  haversack.  At  midnight  a  false 
alarm  was  created,  and  the  prisoners  made  a  considerable 
noise  in  getting  to  their  respective  quarters.  Providen- 
tia^lv,  however,  the  guard  suspected  nothing  Avrong.  and  in 
a  few  moments  the  exodus  was  again  commenced.  Colonel 
Kendrick  and  his  companions  looked  with  some  trepida- 
tion upon  the  movements  of  the  fugitives,  as  some  of 
them,  exercising  but  little  discretion,  moved  boldlv  out 
of  the  inclosure  into  the  glare  of  the  gas  light.  Many 
of  tliem  were,  hoAvever,  in  citizen's  dress,  and  as  all  the 
rebel  guards  wear  the  United  States  uniform,  but  little 
suspicion  could  be  excited,  even  if  the  fugitives  had  been 
accosted  by  a  guard. 

Between  one  and  two  o'clock  the  lamps  were  extin- 
guished in  the  streets,  and  then  the  exit  was  more  safely 
accomplished.  There  were  many  officers  who  desired  to 
leave  Avho  were  so  weak  and  feeble  that  they  were  dragged 
through  the  tunnel  by  main  force  and  carried  to  places 
of  safety,  until  such  time  as  they  would  be  able  to  move 
on  their  journey.  At  half-past  two  o'clock  Captain  Jones, 
Colonel  Kendrick  and  Lieutenant  Bradford  passed  out  in 
the  order  they  were  named,  and  as  Colonel  Kendrick 
emerged  from  the  hole  he  heard  the  guard  within  a  few 
feet  of  him  sing  out,  "Post  No.  7,  half-past  two  in  the 
morning,  and  all's  well."  Col.  E^endrick  says  he  could 
hardlv  resist  the  temptation  of  saying,  "Not  so  well  as 
you  think,  except  for  the  Yanks."  Lieutenant  Bradford, 
who  was  intrusted  with  the  provisions  for  his  squad,  and 


ESCAPE  FROM  LIBBY  PRISON,  22^1 

could  not  get  tlirougli  with  "his  haversack  upon  him, 
was  therefore  obliged  to  leave  it  behind. 

Once  out,  they  proceeded  up  the  street,  keeping  in  the 
shade  of  the  buildings,  and  passed  eastwardly  through 
the  city. 

A  description  of  the  route  pursued  by  this  party,  and 
of  the  tribulations  through  which  they  passed,  will  give 
some  idea  of  the  rough  time  they  all  had  of  it.  Colonel 
Kendrick  had,  before  leaving  the  prison,  mapped  out 
his  course,  and  concluded  that  the  best  route  to  take  was 
the  one  towards  Norfolk  or  Fortress  Monroe,  as  there 
were  fewer  rebel  pickets  in  that  direction. 

While  passing  through  the  swamp  near  the  Chicka- 
homiuy,  Colonel  Kendrick  sprained  his  ankle  and  fell. 
Fortunate,  too,  was  that  fall  for  him  and  his  party,  for 
while  he  was  lying  there  one  of  them  chanced  to  look  up, 
and  saw  in  a  direct  line  with  them  a  swamp  bridge,  and 
in  the  dim  outline  they  could  perceive  that  parties  with 
muskets  were  passing  over  the  bridge.  They  therefore 
moved  some  distance  to  the  south,  and,  after  passing 
through  more  of  the  swamp,  reached  the  Chickahominy 
about  four  miles  below  Bottom  Bridge.  Here  now  was 
a  difficulty.  The  river  was  only  twenty  feet  wide,  but 
it  was  very  deep,  and  the  refugees  were  worn-out  and 
fatigued.  Chancing,  however,  to  look  up,  Lieut.  Brad- 
ford saw  that  two  trees  had  fallen  on  either  side  of  the 
river,  and  that  their  branches  were  interlocked.  By 
crawling  up  one  tree  and  down  the  other,  the  fugitives 
reached  the  east  bank  of  the  Chickahominy,  and  Col. 
Kendrick  could  not  help  remarking  that  he  believed 
Providence  was  on  their  side,  else  they  would  not  have 
met  that  natural  bridge. 

They  subsequently  learned,  from  a  friendly  negro,  that 
had  they  crossed  the  bridge  they  had  seen,  they  would 
assuredly  have  been  recaptured,  for  Captain  Turner,  the 
keeper  of  Libbj  Prison,  had  been  out,  and  posted  guards 


■228  ESCAPE  FROM  LIBEY  PRISON. 

there,  and,  in  fact,  had  alarmed  the  whole  country",  and 
got  the  people  up  as  a  vigilance  committee  to  capture  tho 
escaped  prisoners. 

After  crossing  over  this  natural  bridge,  they  lay  down 
on  the  ground,  and  slept  until  sunrise  on  the  morning  of 
the  11th,  when  they  continued  on  their  way,  keeping 
eastward ly  as  near  as  they  could.  Up  to  this  time  they 
had  had  nothing  to  eat,  and  were  almost  famished.  About 
noon  of  the  11th,  they  met  several  negroes,  who  gave 
them  information  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  the  rebel  pickets, 
and  furnished  them  with  food. 

Acting  under  the  advice  of  these  friendly  negroes,  they 
remained  quietly  in  the  woods  until  darkness  had  set  in, 
when  they  were  furnished  with  a  comfortable  supper  by 
the  negroes,  and  after  dark  proceeded  on  their  way,  the 
negroes  (who  everywhere  showed  their  friendship  to  the 
fugitives)  having  first  directed  them  how  to  avoid  the 
rebel  pickets.  That  night  they  passed  a  camp  of  rebels, 
and  could  plainly  see  the  smoke  and  camp-fire.  But 
their  wearied  feet  gave  out.  and  they  were  compelled  to 
stop  and  rest,  having  only  marched  seven  miles  that 
day. 

They  started  again  at  daylight,  on  the  13th,  and  after 
moving  awhile  through  the  woods,  they  saw  a  negro 
woman  working  in  a  field,  and  called  her  to  them,  and 
from  her  received  directions,  and  were  told  that  the  rebel 
pickets  had  been  about  there,  looking  for  the  fugitives 
from  Libby.  Here  they  laid  low  again,  and  resumed 
their  journey  when  darkness  set  in,  and  marched  five 
miles,  but  halted  until  tke  morning  of  the  14th,  when  the 
journey  was  resumed. 

At  one  point  they  met  a  negro  in  the  field,  and  she 
told  them  that  her  mistress  was  a  secesh  woman,  and  that 
she  had  a  son  in  the  rebel  army.  The  party,  however, 
were  exceedingly  hungry,  and  they  determined  to  secure 
some  food.  This  they  did  by  boldly  approaching  the 
house,  and  informing  the  mistress  that  thej  were  fugitives 


ADVENTURES  OF  AN  ARKANSAS  REFUGEE.  229 

from  Norfolk,  who  had  been  driven  out  by  Butler,  and 
the  secesh  sympathies  of  the  woman  were  at  once  ai  oused, 
and  she  gave  them  of  her  substance,  and  started  them  on 
their  way  with  directions  liow  to  avoid  the  Yankee  sol- 
diers, who  occasionally  scouted  in  that  vicinity.  This 
information  was  exceedingly  valuable  to  the  refugees, 
for  by  it  they  discovered  the  whereabouts  of  the  Federal 
forces. 

When  about  fifteen  miles  from  "Williamsburg,  the  party 
came  upon  the  main  road,  and  found  the  tracks  of  a  large 
body  of  cavalry.  A  piece  of  paper  found  by  Captain 
Jones  satisfied  him  that  they  were  Union  cavahy,  but 
his  companions  were  suspicious,  and  avoided  the  road 
and  moved  forward,  and  at  the  "  Burnt  Ordinary"  {about 
ten  miles  from  William.sburg)  awaited  the  return  of  the 
cavalry  that  had  moved  up  the  road,  and  from  beliind  a 
fence  corner  where  they  were  secreted,  the  fugitives  saw 
the  flag  of  the  Union,  supported  by  a  squadron  of  cavalry, 
which  proved  to  be  a  detachment  of  Colonel  Spear's 
Eleventh  Pennsylvania  Eegiment,  sent  out  for  the  purpose 
of  picking  up  escaped  prisoners. 

The  party  rode  into  Williamsburg  with  the  cavalry, 
where  they  were  quartered  for  the  night,  and  where  tney 
found  eleven  others  who  had  escaped  safely.  Colonel 
Spear  and  his  command  furnished  the  officers  with  cloth- 
ing and  other  necessaries. 

At  all  points  along  the  route  was  their  reception  by 
the  negroes  most  enthusiastic,  and  there  was  no  lack  of 
white  people  who  sympathized  with  them,  and  helpsd 
tl''^'^.  on  their  way. 


ADVENTITEES  OP  AN  AEKANSAS  EETUGEE. 

When  General  (then  Colonel)  Sigel  fell  back  from  Car- 
thage, Mo.,  to  Mt.  Vernon,  in  the  summer  of  1861,  one 
De  Witt  C.  Hopkins,  a  refugee  from  Arkansas,  who  had 


230  ADVENTURES  OF  AN  ARKANSAS  REFUGEE. 

acted  as  the  General's  guide,  determined  to  revisit  hia 
home,  and  if  possible  put  himself  in  such  an  attitude 
that  he  could  remain  there  until  other  opportunities  should 
be  presented  to  give  information  to  the  Federal  army. 
To  this  end  he  arrayed  himself  in  the  home-spun  of  the 
country — a  process,  however,  that  required  but  slight 
modifications  of  his  former  garb — and  started  out  alone 
and  on  a  circuitous  route,  first  for  Lower  Kansas  and  the 
Indian  Nation.  Arriving  at  Humboldt,  he  struck  thence 
for  the  Neosho  River,  down  that  to  Grand  River,  and  from 
the  latter  stream  wended  his  way  to  the  Grand  Saline 
(salt  works)  in  the  Cherokee  Nation.  He  then  purchased 
a  pair  of  Indian  ponies,  with  the  view  ostensibly  of  selling 
them  to  the  Confederate  army,  when  he  should  have 
reached  it  from  below.  From  the  Grand  Saline  he  went 
to  Telequah,  and  from  thence  to  Maysville,  Benton  County, 
Arkansas. 

Learning  that  the  rebels  were  concentrating  again  and 
reorganizing  their  forces  on  Cowskin  Prairie,  he  entered 
the  camp  from  the  southwest,  leading  one  pony  and  riding 
the  other.  Meeting  a  number  of  old  acquaintances,  he 
regretted  very  much  his  inability  to  be  at  the  Carthage 
fight,  and  rejoiced  with  them  over  the  easy  surrender  of 
the  redoubtable  Teuton,  who  commanded  at  Neosho. 
His  character  as  a  sympathizing  Indian  trader  giving 
him  ready  currency,  he  sold  one  of  his  animals,  and  re- 
taining the  other,  passed  on  homeward,  but  soon  found 
that  he  could  not  remain  in  safety.  His  sudden  disap- 
pearance at  a  critical  juncture  had  been  observed,  and  he 
saw  that  he  was  an  object  of  suspicion.  A  very  few  days, 
in  fact,  sufficed  to  warn  him  of  his  danger,  and  he  was  com- 
pelled to  abandon  his  father's  roof  for  the  woods  hard  by. 

On  one  occasion  he  was  near  the  house,  when  a  party 
of  men  rode  suddenly  up  and  demanded  his  forthcoming. 
Listening  to  their  conversation  with  his  father,  he  gathered 
enough  of  it  to  induce  him  to  show  himself,  to  prevent 
the  burning  of  the  house,  but  in  such  a  way  that  his  pre- 


ADVENTURES  OP  AN  ARKANSAS  REFUGEE.  231 

«ence  should  be  felt  as  well  as  seen.  He  was  well 
mounted,  an  intrepid  rider,  and  dashing  past  them,  dis- 
charged both  barrels  of  a  shotgun,  and  spurred  into  a 
thicket.  Attention  was  now  directed  from  the  house,  the 
]iartv  riding  after  him,  save  two  crippled  rebels,  who  were 
the  unfortunate  recipients  of  this  unexpected  salutation. 
Escape,  nevertheless,  was  easy,  and  as  soon  as  his  pur- 
suers were  baffled,  young  Hopkins  cautiously  approached 
the  house  of  Small  Cloud  Spicer,  acting  Chief  of  the 
Seneca  Nation.  A  minor,  Curly  Eye  Butterfly,  was  the 
heir  apparent,  but  to  Small  Cloud  was  intrusted  the 
management  of  the  affairs  of  the  tribe,  and  Hopkins,  pre- 
viously acquainted  with  him,  believed  his  protection  to 
be  worth  the  seeking.  It  was  cheerfully,  but  cautiously 
accorded,  and  to  avoid  suspicion,  a  hiding  place  a  short 
distance  off,  near  the  Cowskin  River,  was  pointed  out. 
There  Hopkins  secreted  himself  for  several  days,  his  food 
being  brought  to  him  by  an  Indian  maiden,  daughter  of 
Small  Cloud,  when  learning  that  his  enemies  had  left 
the  vicinity,  he  ventured  to  return  home. 

Shortly  after  this  occurrence,  a  dancing  party  assembled 
at  the  house  of  a  Captain  Parks,  in  the  Cherokee  Nation. 
Ascertaining  in  advance  that  a  number  of  rebel  officers 
were  expected  to  grace  the  occasion  with  their  presence, 
Hopkins  determined  to  attend,  for  the  double  purpose  of 
enjoying  himself  and  gathering  information  of  army 
movements.  Inviting  an  Indian  girl,  he  led  her  in  due 
time  to  the  floor,  but  had  scarcely  done  so  when  a  stal- 
wart Cherokee  brushed  past  him  in  a  manner  that,  by 
the  customs  of  the  tribe,  could  only  be  construed  into  a 
deliberate  affront.  It  was  so  intended,  in  fact,  for  the 
same  dusky  damsel  had  declined  him  as  an  escort  to  the 
dance,  our  friend  having  preoccupied  the  ground.  The 
insult  was  properly  resented,  and  the  ball  came  suddenly 
and  tragically  to  a  close.  While  the  company  had  been 
assembling,  young  Hopkins  learned  that  a  movement 
was  in  contemplation  against  General  Lyon,  but  not  pos- 


232  ADVENTURES  OF  AN  ARKANSAS  REFUGEE. 

sessed  of  sufficient  information  to  warrant  tlie  hazards 
of  a  trip  to  Union  headquarters,  returning  home  he  ten- 
dered his  services  to  General  Rains.  They  were  accepted, 
and  he  was  established  at  headquarters,  a  voluntary  aide- 
de-cam-p  without  rank  or  braid. 

On  the  9th  of  August  the  rebels  were  so  to  move,  as 
to  attack  Springfield  at  daylight  on  the  10th,  and  Hopkins, 
becoming  satisfied  that  such  was  the  intention,  essayed 
to  reach  the  Federal  lines.  He  was  arrested,  however, 
just  outside  of  the  rebel  lines,  by  a  patrol  of  Louisiana 
troops,  and  it  required  all  his  coolness  and  address  to 
sustain,  even  partially,  the  character  of  forager  for  the 
General's  mess.  Considered  a  suspicious  personage,  he 
was  taken  to  camp,  and  placed  under  guard,  his  case  to 
be  disposed  of  after  the  expected  battle  then  absorbing 
attention.  For  various  reasons,  the  contemplated  advance 
on  the  night  of  the  9th  was  not  made,  and  on  the  follow- 
ing morning  the  battle  was  fought  at  Wilson's  Creek, 
ten  miles  southwesterly  from  Springfield.  During  the 
engagement  Hopkins  was  kept  with  Woodruff's  battery, 
but  in  the  evening  the  guards  left  him.  wild,  like  their 
comrades,  over  the  unexpected  success  of  the  rebel  arms. 
Springing  now  on  to  a  horse,  he  rode  rapidly  homeward. 
Alternating  between  the  house  and  the  woods,  he  re- 
mained in  the  vicinity  until  General  Fremont's  arrival  at 
Springfield,  an  event  that  hastened  his  departure,  success- 
fully now,  to  the  Federal  lines.  Arriving  at  Flat  Creek, 
he  reported  to  Sigel,  commanding  the  advance,  and  was 
placed  at  once  in  the  corps  of  secret  service  men.  In 
January  following  he  was  sent  southward  by  General 
Curtis,  then  commanding  the  Army  of  the  Southwest,  to 
proceed  to  the  Arkansas  River. 

The  rebels  then  held  Arkansas  and  Southwestern  Mis- 
souri ;  were  making  extensive  preparations  for  the  battle 
fought  afterwards  at  Pea  Ridge,  and  to  enter  their  lines, 
much  more  to  pass  through  them  to  the  river  in  question, 
vas  an  undertaking  as  difficult  as  hazardous.     Providing 


ADVENTURES  OF  AN  ARKANSAS  REFUGEE,  233 

himself  with  a  suit  of  the  most  approved  Confederate  gray ; 
dyeing  his  hair  and  whiskers ;  adjusting  a  pair  of  goggles ; 
mounting  a  "  C.  S."  horse,  and  assuming  the  character  of 
a  Missouri  officer,  returning  from  a  recruiting  expedition, 
he  struck  into  the  Indian  Nation,  and  then  boldly  south- 
ward. It  required  now  all  his  address  to  avoid  suspicion, 
but  his  confidence  increased  with  his  peril. 

Courage  on  the  battle-field,  questionable  ofttimes,  as 
advancing  columns  approach  each  other,  is  thoroughly 
roused  by  a  few  volleys,  but  the  cool,  deliberate  daring 
of  the  spy — the  resolution  that  braves  reproach,  igno- 
miny, and  death,  belongs  to  men  of  other  stamp.  The 
services  of  this  class  are  as  old  as  war,  and  though  the 
spy  may  occasionally  fail  of  his  object,  and  impart  infor- 
mation to  be  received  with  allowances,  he  is  indispensable, 
and  so  for  as  money  can  reward,  government  looks  well 
to  his  interests. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  write.  Fort  Smith,  situated  at 
the  junction  of  the  Arkansas  and  Poteau  Kivers,  and  di- 
rectly on  the  line  between  the  State  of  Arkansas  and  the 
Choctaw  Nation,  was  a  central  point  in  rebel  scheming 
in  the  Southwest;  where  troops  were  gathered;  from 
which  news  of  importance  to  the  army  was  set  in  motion, 
and  where,  within  the  fortress  of  the  same  name,  magnates 
of  the  new  Confederacy  met  to  eat,  drink,  and  plot  treason. 
Here,  in  February,  1862,  Ben  McCullough  sneered  at 
Northern  prowess ;  and  here,  in  March,  was  buried,  falling 
at  Pea  Ridge,  before  the  aim  of  Peter  Pellican,  a  private 
of  Company  "  B,"  of  the  36th  Illinois  Infantry  Volunteers. 
The  officers'  mess  at  the  fort  was  kept  by  a  Mrs.  Preston, 
and  it  was  customary  to  lay  the  table  for  supper  imme- 
diately after  dark.  Formality  in  coming  and  going  was 
dispensed  with;  the  place  in  this  particular  assuming 
more  the  character  of  a  restaurant  than  officers'  quarters. 
Of  these  peculiarities  Hopkins  was  cognizant,  and  moving 
rapidly  through  the  Cherokee  Nation,  arrived  on  the 
evening  of  the  fourth  day  out  at  a  friendly  house  off  the 


231  ADVENTURES  OF  AN  ARKANSAS  REFUGEE. 

northern  bank  of  the  Arkansas,  a  mile  from  the  fort. 
During  the  night,  and  the  next  day,  he  remained  in  the 
neighboring  cane,  and  as  darkness  set  in  moved  for  tlie 
river.  His  garb  securing  ferriage  across  without  diffi- 
culty, he  rode  boldly  up  to  the  main  entrance,  saluted 
the  sentinel  on  duty  as  he  passed,  and  with  the  air  of  an 
habitue,  dismounted  in  front  of  the  officers'  quarters,  tied 
his  horse,  and  walked  with  the  utmost  nonchalance  into 
the  supper  room. 

It  so  happened  that  the  bell  had  just  been  rung,  and 
entering  with  others,  he  quietly  took  a  seat  at  the  foot  of 
the  table.  There  were  seated  about  it.  General  Mcintosh 
(killed  at  Pea  Kidge),  Major  Montgomery,  of  the  Quarter- 
master's Depai-tment,  and  other  prominent  officers.  The 
conversation  turned  upon  the  all-absorbing  events  of  the 
time;  the  probable  advance  of  General  Curtis,  and  their 
own  state  of  preparation,  and  was  in  nowise  restrained  by 
the  presence  of  the  pseudo  recruiting  officer.  The  viands 
disposed  of,  the  position  was  becoming  embarrassing, 
and  Hopkins  wished  for  nothing  so  much,  as  that  his 
brother  officers  should  rise  and  precede  him  from  the  room, 
but  they  pertinaciously  clung  to  their  seats.  At  length, 
conscious  that  he  could  remain  no  longer  without  exciting 
suspicion,  he  rose  and  moved  unconcernedly  towards  the 
door.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  he  arrested  attention.  As 
he  passed  General  Mcintosh,  that  officer  turned  sharply 
around — 

"  Who  do  you  belong  to  ?"  he  inquired,  with  more 
emphasis  than  politeness. 

"Quartermaster's  Department,  Little  Eock!"  was  the 
ready  response. 

"  What's  that  5^ou  say  ?"  said  Major  Montgomery,  start- 
ing up  from  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

Seeing,  on  the  instant,  that  his  affairs  were  likely  to 
take  a  disastrous  turn,  and  without  venturing  a  reply, 
he  rushed  quickly  out,  cut  the  strap  wdth  which  his  horse 
was  tied,  and  dashed  for  the  fortress  gate  leading  into 


ADVENTURES  OP  AN  ARKANSAS  REFUGEE.  235 

Garrison  Avenue — the  avenue  to  the  river.  For  a  few- 
moments  the  officers  at  the  fort  were  so  startled  by  the 
strange  occurrence  that  they  lost  their  self-possession. 
Recovering  it,  they  gave  the  alarm ;  shouted  to  the  sen- 
tinel on  duty  at  the  gate  to  '-halt  the  dare-devil,"  and 
harmlessly  discharged  one  or  two  pistols.  By  this  time 
Hopkins  had  passed  the  guard,  though  shot  at  and  slightly 
•wounded  as  he  darted  by,  and  was  galloping  at  a  furious 
rate  down  the  avenue.  Arriving  at  the  river  he  spurred 
his  horse  boldly  in,  and  sliding  off"  in  a  manner,  not  un- 
familiar to  those  whose  armv  experiences  have  compelled 
them  to  swim  streams  too  deep  to  be  forded,  grasped  the 
animal  by  the  caudal  extremity,  and  making  a  rudder  of 
himself,  landed  finally  on  the  opposite  bank.  Eemaiuing 
unobserved  that  night  and  the  next  day  in  the  friendly 
cane,  while  an  active  search  was  being  made  for  him,  appa- 
rently in  almost  every  direction,  he  then  struck  northw\ard, 
moving  up  by  Frog  Bayou  through  Crawford,  AYashington, 
and  Benton  Counties,  Arkansas,  nnd  after  the  lapse  of  se- 
veral days  reported  to  General  Sigel. 

While  McCullough's  army  was  lying  at  Cross  HoUow's 
in  the  February  following,  Hopkins  appeared  within  the 
lines  with  two  artillerv  horses  for  sale.  Readily  bargain- 
ing them  away  for  Confederate  notes,  he  delivered  one, 
and  at  his  own  request  was  permitted  to  retain  the  other 
until  the  following  morning.  ^leantime  he  quietly  pre- 
pared to  run  the  pickets,  and  about  9  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing approached  those  stationed  on  the  telegraph  road 
leading  to  Elk  Horn  Tavern. 

"  Who  comes  there  ?''  shouted  a  voice  from  the  road 
Bide. 

"  Friend  with  the  countersign,"  was  the  quick  reply. 

"  Advance,  friend,  and  give  it." 

Hopkins  now  rode  rapidly  forward,  ansAvered  the  de- 
mand with  the  quick  discharge  of  both  barrels  of  a  shot 
gun  at  the  astonished  soldiers,  and  spurring  onward 
through  the  darkness,  was  soon  out  of  harm's  way.     A 


i.36  ADVENTURES  OF  AX  ARKANSAS  REFUGEE. 

n.onth  later  be  participated  in  the  battle  on  Pea  Ridge, 
aud  after  that  engagement,  was  for  some  time  employed 
as  a  general  scout  for  the  post  at  Cassville.  Tims  engaged 
when  Col.  Harrison  began  recruiting  for  the  First  Arkan- 
sas Cavalry,  he  ardently  seconded  his  efforts,  and  received 
power  to  recruit  for  the  proposed  regiment. 

On  the  5th  of  April,  1862,  he  left  Cassville,  and  shortly 
after  midnight  of  the  same  day  arrived  at  the  "Widow 
Christie's,  on  Pool's  Prairie,  Newton  County,  Missouri. 
Tired,  hungry,  and  drenched  with  rain,  he  roused  the 
occupants,  and  was  admitted  to  the  house.  His  horse, 
upon  the  advice  of  the  widow,  was  secreted  in  the  neigh- 
boring bushes,  as  Livingston's  men,  notorious  bush- 
whackers, were  constantly  prowling  about  the  locality. 
He  had  scarcely  disposed  himself  by  the  fire,  when  the 
house-dog  raised  a  warning  bark,  that  was  answered  by 
the  clearly  distinguishable  clattering  of  hoofs  close  to  the 
house.  Verily  the  Philistines  were  now  upon  him,  though 
not  probably  aware  of  his  presence.  His  feminine  friend, 
alarmed,  nevertheless,  for  his  safety,  threw  up  the  quilts 
and  mattress  of  a  bed  in  an  adjoining  room,  and  told  him 
to  jump  uiiderneath  them.  In  he  went  with  boots,  spurs, 
hat,  and  a  fair  representation  of  southwestern  mud.  The 
clothes  were  covered  over  him,  and  save  a  moderate 
increase  of  altitude,  the  bed  was  in  stattt  qxio.  The 
approaching  party  were  indeed  Livingston's  men,  and  a 
few  minutes  later  they  entered  the  house.  The  widow 
accounted  for  the  light  at  so  unusual  an  hour  by  saying 
that  she  was  unwell,  and  had  risen  to  prepare  a  warm 
cup  of  tea. 

The  excuse  was  satisfactory,  and  after  a  brief  halt  the 
marauder's  departed.  Hopkins  now  emerged  from  his 
place  of  concealment,  and  shortly  afterwards  was  gallop- 
ing away  to  the  westward.  Recruiting  as  he  passed 
along,  he  had  collected  between  twenty  and  thirty  men, 
when  his  services  as  a  scout  were  desired  by  Major  Hub- 
bard, of  the  First  Missouri  Cavalry,  then  scouring  south- 


ADVENTURES  OF  AN  ARKANSAS  REFUGEE.  237 

■western  Missouri.  They  were  promptly  given,  and  to 
Ins  intrepid  guidance  is  due  mucli  of  the  praise  properly 
accorded  to  the  Union  forces  for  their  operations  against 
Waitie,  Coffee,  and  the  rebel  Indians,  in  the  spring  of 
1862. 

After  the  affair  at  Neosho,  Mo.,  in  which  Major  Hub- 
bard obtained  a  signal  success  over  the  enemy,  Hopkins, 
worn  down  with  incessant  riding,  left  the  command,  and 
repaired  to  a  private  house  for  rest.  A  portion  of  the 
37th  Illinois  Infantry  Volunteers  had  encamped  near  by, 
and  it  was  Hopkins'  intention  to  move  on  with  them  in 
the  morning  to  Cassville.  When  morning  came,  how- 
ever, the  troops  had  departed,  and  he  found  himself  alone 
in  the  enemy's  country.  Nothing  was  left,  of  course,  but 
to  follow  on"!  which  he  did,  gayly  and  unconcernedly — 
for  the  rebels  had  been  most  thoroughly  whipped — when 
suddenly  there  sprang  from  the  roadside,  as  he  was  pass- 
ing a  secluded  spot,  half  a  dozen  armed  men,  who  checked 
him  with  a  well  .understood  "Halt!"  There  was  no  al- 
ternative, and  he  surrendered.  This  occurrence  took 
place  on  the  27th  of  April.  On  the  1st  of  May  he  was 
sent  under  charges  as  a  spy,  by  Colonel  Waitie,  to  General 
Cooper's  headquarters,  on  Buck  Creek,  in  the  Choctaw 
Nation,  and  from  thence  to  Fort  McCullough,  where  Gene- 
ral Pike,  as  commander  of  the  district  of  Indian  Territory, 
was  then  stationed.  Here  he  was  detained  two  weeks, 
but  uniformly  treated  with  great  kindness  by  General 
Pike.  Eeturned  then  to  Cooper's  command  he  was  for- 
warded from  it  to  Norfolk,  on  the  north  fork  of  the  Cana- 
dian River,  and  from  thence  to  Colonel  Waitie's  camp, 
then  pitched  on  Cowskin  Prairie,  in  southwestern  Mis- 
souri. 

His  trial  was  now  entered  upon,  but  while  pending,  an 
adjournment  took  place,  and  he  was  sent  to  Fort  Smith, 
where  the  remainder  of  the  evidence  against  him  was  to 
be  taken.  At  that  place  the  trial  was  concluded,  the 
prisoner  convicted  and  sentenced  to  be  hung,  and  the 


238  ADVENTURES  OF  AN  ARKANSAS  REFt'GEE. 

record  sent  up  to  General  Pike,  for  the  usual  supervision 
of  a  commanding  ofiicer.  The  result  of  his  reviewing 
was  a  reversal  of  the  decision  of  the  court  below,  on  the 
ground  that  the  offence  committed,  if  committed  at  all, 
took  place  within  the  territorial  limits  of  the  State  of  Mis- 
souri, which,  so  far  as  the  Government  of  the  Confederate 
States  was  concerned,  was  conquered  territory  in  the 
possession  of  the  Federal  forces ;  and  that  therefore  Hop- 
kins could  not,  by  the  laws  of  war,  be  regarded  as  a  spy, 
but  was  entitled  to  the  treatment  and  disposition  given  to 
other  prisoners  of  war.  He  was  held,  nevertheless,  but  his 
confinement  was  made  less  rigorous,  the  freedom  of  a  dun- 
geon being  substituted  for  the  close  quarters  of  a  ball  and 
chain,  with  a  staple  in  the  floor  to  give  them  locality. 

About  this  time  Majors  Hubbard  and  Miller  made  their 
dashing  entrance  into  Fayetteville,  and  the  report  came  to 
Fort  Smith  that  Judge  David  Walker  a  rebel  sympa- 
thizer, had  been  killed.  The  rebels  at  the  fort  were  quite 
naturally  enraged  at  such  a  proceeding,  and  "  blood  for 
blood"  was  demanded  for  the  supposed  outrage.  Hop- 
kins was  their  selection,  and  his  execution  was  ordered 
to  take  place  one  afternoon  at  four  o'clock.  Fortunately, 
on  the  morning  of  the  dreaded  day,  news  was  received 
that  Judge  Walker  was  still  alive  and  unharmed,  and  the 
execution  was  ind-efinitely  2>ostponed.  Hopkins  now  re- 
ceived the  treatment  to  which  he  was  entitled,  and  on  tlie 
2d  of  August,  1862,  left  Fort  Smith  for  exchange  at 
Cassville.  Eeporting  to  Colonel  Harrison  at  Springfield, 
he  was  promoted  to  the  captaincy  of  a  company  of  the 
regiment  in  which  he  had  enlisted  some  months  pre- 
viously, and  since  re-entering  the  service  has  been  con- 
stantly on  duty,  proving  hmiself  under  all  circumstances 
to  be  a  very  bold,  daring,  and  efficient  officer. 


HOW  THE  SECESH  TOOK  CLARK  WRIGH^.  239 


HOW  THE  SECESH  TOOK  CLAKK  WEIGHT. 

Maj.  Clark  Wright,  who  has  obtained  considerable 
prominence  during  the  piesent  war  as  a  scout  and  a 
soldier — having  been  in  command  of  a  squadron  of  the 
same  chara(;ter  as  himself — moved  from  Ohio  to  Polk 
County,  Missouri,  in  1858,  and,  buying  a  large  amount  of 
prairie,  commenced  the  business  of  stock  raising.  He 
was  just  before  married  to  a  woman  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary intelligence  and  determination,  who  proved  herself 
eminently  fitted  for  the  duties  which  their  new  life  im- 
posed upon  them.  He  prospered  greatly,  and  in  a  short 
time  had  erected  a  fine  house,  furnished  in  the  best  style 
possible,  had  two  young  children,  an  amiable  wife,  a  good 
home,  and  was  adding  rapidly  to  an  originally  large  for- 
tune. 

When  the  roar  of  secession  came  up  from  South  Caro- 
lina, he  heard  it  in  common  with  others  of  his  neighbors, 
but  while  avowing  himself  in  favor  of  sustaining  the 
Union,  he  determined  to  attend  strictly  to  his  own  busi- 
ness. He  had  no  hesitation  in  expressing  his  sentiments 
of  loyalty  to  the  government,  but  he  did  it  quietly,  and 
with  a  view  not  to  give  offence.  Soon  after,  at  a  Baptist 
meeting  near  his  residence,  a  few  of  the  brethren,  after 
refreshing  their  spiritual  appetites  with  the  crumbs  of 
the  sanctuary,  took  his  case  into  consideration,  and  unani- 
mously determined  that  he  should  be  made  to  leave  the 
country,  and  appointing  a  committee  of  three  to  inform 
him  of  their  decision. 

One  of  the  party,  although  an  ardent  secessionist,  hap- 
pened to  be  a  personal  fric-nd  of  Wright,  and  hastening 
away,  informed  him  of  the  meeting,  and  that  the  committee 
would  wait  on  him  the  next  day,  Monday.  Wright 
thanked  his  kind  friend,  and,  then  like  a  dutiful  husband, 
laid  the  case  before  his  wife,  and  asked  her  advice.  She 
pondered  a  few  moments,  and  then  asked  Lira  if  he  had 


240  HOW  THE  SECESH  TOOK  CLARK  WPJOHT. 

done  anything  to  warrant  sucli  a  proceeding.  Nothing. 
"Then  let  us  fight!"  was  the  reply;  and  to  fight  was  the 
conclusion.  'Wright  was  plentifully  supplied  with  revol- 
vers ;  he  took  two,  and  his  wife  another,  loaded  them  care- 
fully, and  waited  further  developments. 

Monday  afternoon  three  men  rode  up  and  inquired  for 
Mr.  "Wright.  He  walked  out,  with  the  butt  of  a  revolver 
sticking  warily  from  his  coat  pocket,  and  inquired  their 
wishes.  The  revolver  seemed  to  upset  their  ideas.  They 
answered  nothing  in  particular,  and  proceeded  to  converse 
upon  everything  in  general,  but  never  alluded  to  their 
errand.  Finally,  after  a  half  hour  had  passed,  and  the 
men  still  talked  on  without  coming  to  the  mission,  Wright 
grew  impatient,  and  asked  if  they  had  any  special  busi- 
ness ;  if  not,  he  had  a  pressing  engagement,  and  would 
like  to  be  excused.  Well,  they  had  a  little  business,  said 
one,  with  considerable  hesitation,  as  he  glanced  at  the 
revolver  butt. 

"Stop,"  says  Wright,  "before  you  tell  it,  I  wish  to  say 
a  word.  I  know  your  business,  and  I  just  promised  my 
wife,  on  my  honor  as  a  man,  that  I  would  blow  h — 11  out 
of  the  man  who  told  me  of  it,  and  by  the  eternal  God,  I'll 
do  it!  Now  tell  me  your  errand!"  and  as  he  concluded 
he  pulled  out  his  revolver,  and  cocked  it.  The  fellow 
glanced  a  moment  at  the  deadly  looking  pistol,  and  took 
in  the  stalwart  form  of  Wright,  who  was  glaring  at  him 
with  murder  in  his  eye,  and  concluded  to  postpone  the 
announcement.  The  three  rode  away,  and  reported  the 
reception  to  their  principals. 

The  next  Sunday,  after  another  refreshing  season,  the 
brethren  again  met  and  took  action  upon  the  contumacy 
of  Mr.  Wright.  The  captain  of  a  company  of  secessionists 
was  present,  and,  after  due  deliberation,  it  was  deter- 
mined that  upon  the  next  Thursday  he  should  take  his 
command,  proceed  to  Wright's,  and  summarily  eject  him 
from  the  sacred  soil  of  Missouri.  Wright's  friend  was 
again  present,  and  he  soon  communicated  the  state  of 


HOW  THE  SECESH  TOOK  CLARK  WRIGHT.  241 

affairs  to  Mr.  "Wright,  with  u  suggestion  that  it  would 
save  trouble  and  bloodshed  if  he  got  away  before  the 
day  appointed. 

Wright  lived  in  a  portion  of  the  country  remote  from 
the  cliurch  and  the  residence  of  those  who  were  endea- 
voring to  drive  him  out,  and  he  determined,  if  possible, 
to  prepare  a  surprise  for  the  worthy  captain  and  his  gal- 
lant forces.  To  this  end  he  bought  a  barrel  of  whiskey, 
another  of  crackers,  a  few  cheeses,  and  some  other  pro- 
visions, and  then  mounting  a  black  boy  upon  a  swift 
horse,  sent  him  around  the  country  inviting  his  friends 
to  come  and  see  him  and  bring  their  arms.  By  Wednes- 
day night  he  had  gathered  a  force  of  about  three  hundred 
men,  to  whom  he  communicated  the  condition  of  things, 
and  asked  their  assistance.  They  promised  to  back  him 
to  the  death.  The  next  day  they  concealed  themselves  in 
a  cornfield  back  of  the  house,  and  awaited  the  develop- 
ment of  events. 

A  little  after  noon  the  captain  and  some  eighty  men 
rode  up  to  the  place  and  inquired  for  Mr.  Wright.  That 
gentleman  immediately  made  his  appearance,  when  the 
captain  informed  him  that,  being  satisfied  of  his  aboli- 
tionism, they  had  come  to  eject  him  from  the  State. 

"  Won't  3^ou  give  me  two  days  to  settle  up  my  aft'airs  ?" 
asked  Wright. 

"  Two  daj's  be  d — d !  I'll  give  you  five  minutes  to 
pack  up  your  traps  and  leave  here." 

"  But  I  can't  get  ready  in  five  minutes.  I  have  a  fine 
property  here,  and  a  happy  home,  and  if  you  drive  me 
off  you'll  make  me  a  beggar.  I  have  done  nothing;  if  I 
go,  my  wife  and  children  must  starve!" 

"To  h — 11  with  your  beggars!     You  must  travel!" 

"Give  me  two  hours!'' 

"I'll  give  you  just  five  minutes,  and  not  a   second 
longer!     If  3'ou  ain't  out  by  that  time  (here  the  gallant 
soldier  swore  a  most  fearful  oath),  I'll  blow  out  your  cursed 
abolition  heart!" 
16 


242  HOW  THE  SECESH  TOOK  CLARK  WRIGHT. 

"Well,  if  I  must,  I  must!"  and  Wright  turned  toward 
the  house  as  if  in  deep  despair,  gave  a  preconcerted 
whistle,  and  almost  instantly  after,  the  concealed  forces 
rushed  out,  and  surrounded  the  astonished  captain  and 
his  braves. 

"  Ah,  captain,"  said  Wright,  as  he  turned  imploringly 
toward  him,  "  won't  you  grant  me  two  days — two  hours, 
at  least,  my  brave  friend,  only  two  hours  in  which  to 
prepare  myself  and  family  for  beggary  and  starvation — 
now  do,  won't  you  ?" 

The  captain  could  give  no  reply,  but  sat  upon  his 
horse,  shaking  as  if  ague-smitten. 

"Don't  kill  me!"  he  at  length  found  voice  to  say. 

"■  Kill  you  !  No,  you  black-livered  coward,  I  won't  dirty 
my  hands  with  any  such  filthy  work.  If  I  kill  you,  I'll 
have  one  of  my  niggers  do  it !  Get  down  from  that 
horse !" 

The  gallant  captain  obeyed,  imploring  only  for  life. 
The  result  of  the  matter  was  that  the  whole  company 
dismounted,  laid  down  their  arms,  and  then,  as  they  were 
filed  out,  were  sworn  to  preserve  their  allegiance  inviolate 
to  the  United  States.  An  hour  after,  Mr.  Wright  had 
organized  a  force  of  240  men  f(>r  the  war,  and  by  accla- 
mation was  elected  captain.  The  next  Sunday  he  started 
•  with  liis  command  to  join  the  National  troops  under  Lyon, 
.sto]3ping  long  enough  on  his  way  to  surround  the  Hard- 
shell Church,  at  which  had  originated  all  of  his  miseries. 
After  the  service  was  over,  he  adn)inistered  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  every  one  present,  including  the  Reverend 
Pecksniff,  who  officiated,  and  then  left  them  to  plot  treason 
and  worship  God  in  their  own  peculiarly  pious  and  har- 
monious manner. 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  243 


A  KACE  rOR  LIFE. 


The  following  narrative  is  given,  as  nearly  as  possible, 
in  the  words  of  the  party  immediately  involved,  and  is 
another  exemplification  of  the  barbarism  of  slavery : — 

I  had  been  doing  a  heavy  wholesale  and  retail  provi- 
sion business  in  the  city  of  Augusta,  Georgia,  for  two 
years,  and  was  getting  along  with  the  inhabitants  very 
smoothly,  until  a  little  circumstance  transpired  in  the  fall 
of  1860  which  incited  the  populace  against  me.  I  had 
taken  more  or  less  interest  in  political  affairs  while  I 
lived  there,  and,  as  much  from  policy  as  anything  else, 
adopted  a  conservative  view  of  matters.  I  was  a  strong 
Bell  and  Everett  man,  and  wdien  the  State  Convention 
was  in  session,  I  was  mentioned  as  one  of  the  State  elec- 
tors. 

As  it  was  known  that  I  came  from  Iowa,  some  of  my 
political  constituents  wrote  to  the  latter  city  for  informa- 
tion as  to  my  antecedents.  The  letter  was  addressed  to 
one  of  the  prominent  law  firms  of  Dubuque,  and  for  some 
unaccountable  reason  answered  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
direct  the  deepest  indignation  of  the  community  where  I 
lived  towards  me.  They  were  informed  that  I  was  a 
loud-mouthed  abolitionist,  and  had  stumped  the  State  of 
Iowa  for  Fremont.  Within  a  short  time  of  the  receipt 
of  that  letter  my  house  was  surrounded  by  an  infuriated 
mob,  eager  to  wreak  a  blind  vengeance  on  me.  I  ap- 
pealed to  the  mayor,  who  was  a  warm  personal  friend  of 
mine,  for  protection.  He  responded  by  calling  out  tho 
entire  police  force  to  disperse  the  rabble. 

Myself  an'l  son-in-law  stood  all  that  night  at  the  head 
of  the  first  flight  of  stairs,  in  my  house,  with  fire-arm.*-' 
and  axes,  resolved  to  sell  our  lives  as  dearly  as  possible, 
should  the  miscreants  break  in.  My  brave  wife  knew 
no  fear,  and  would  not  leave  my  side,  although  I  en- 
treated her  to  do  so.     She  seemed  nerved  to  desperation 


244  A  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 

by  our  common  danger,  and  ready  to  face  and  sacrifice 
her  life,  if  necessary,  in  defence  of  our  borne. 

Tbe  people  were  pacified  at  last  wben  they  found  us 
too  resolute  to  be  imposed  upon,  and  after  a  short  time  I 
was  allowed  to  pursue  my  business  as  usual.  I  satisfied 
them  apparently  that  I  did  not  entertain  principles  repug- 
nant to  their  peculiar  views,  and  convinced  them  that 
the  information  they  had  received  was  a  tissue  of  false- 
hoods, yet  there  ever  after  lurked  among  them  a  suspi- 
cion of  my  loyalty  to  the  South.  Thus  we  lived  through 
the  winter,  the  community  daily  becoming  more  excited 
and  bitter  against  those  who  did  not  coincide  to  the 
letter  with  the  damnable  opinions  that  then  ruled  the 
hour. 

In  illu.?tration  of  this  I  will  only  cite  one  instance.  A 
party  of  merchants  were  discussing  the  impending  crisis, 
one  afternoon  in  a  store  not  far  from  mine,  when  one  of 
my  neighbors  made  the  following  remark — "  Gentlemen, 
we  must  be  careful,  and  not  underrate  the  strength  of  the 
enemy."  That  same  night  a  committee  culled  on  him, 
and  asked  him  if  he  had  made  such  a  remark,  when  he 
replied,  "Yes.  I  do  not  seethe  harm  in  it.  It  is  one  of 
the  first  lessons  in  militar3''  strategy  not  to  underrate  the 
power  of  the  foe."  His  explanation  availed  liim  nothing. 
He  was  seized,  and  one  side  of  his  head  and  face  shaved 
clean  of  the  hair  and  whiskers.  Then  the  newly  shaved 
portions  were  daubed  with  tar  and  feathers.  He  then  re- 
ceived forty  lashes,  and  was  given  to  understand  that  he 
had  twelve  hours  in  which  to  make  himself  scarce. 

This  w-as  not  an  isolated  instance.  Deeds  of  violence 
were  of  daily  occurrence,  and  many  times  they  resulted 
in  the  death'of  the  victim.  With  such  a  state  of  society 
boiling  around  me,  I  naturally  felt  anxious  to  remove 
my  family  beyond  all  chance  of  injury.  Finally,  when 
they  had  for  some  time  been  drafting  troops  from  the 
city  for  Jeff  Davis'  arm  v,  I  foresaw  the  time  Avhen  I  would 
bo  called  on,  and  determined  to  remove  my  wife  and 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE,  245 

children  to  the  North.  I  started  off  with  them,  and  sent 
them  forward,  while  I  returned  to  Augusta  to  close  up 
mj  business. 

I  continued  in  my  trade  there  for  a  short  time,  endea- 
voring to  convert  my  property  into  funds  that  would  be 
current  in  Iowa.  I  dared  not  purchase  gold  at  the  bank 
myself,  for  fear  of  attracting  the  attention  of  the  Vigilance 
Committee.  No  one  was  allowed  to  leave  the  country 
openly.  Through  the  friendship  of  a  young  man  named 
Powers,  who  had  been  boarding  with  me,  I  purchased 
some  current  funds,  perhaps  three  or  four  hundred  dollars. 
He  was  a  book  peddler  from  Ohio,  who  had  been  selling 
a  work  entitled,  "  Cotton  is  King,"  and  it  was  through  his 
friendship  and  services  mainly  that  I  escaped. 

One  afternoon,  an  orderly  sergeant  came  into  my  count- 
ing room  and  informed  me  that  it  would  be  necessary,  in 
accordance  with  a  recent  requisition  from  Montgomery, 
for  me  to  enlist.  I  saw  that  it  Avould  not  do  to  hesitate 
an  instant,  and  therefore  manifested  great  readiness,  and 
eagerness  to  join.  I  was  told  I  could  have  my  choice 
between  infantry  and  cavalry,  and  that  I  must  meet  my 
comrades  that  night  at  the  armory.  I  chose  to  join  the 
cavalry,  and  at  the  appointed  hour  was  on  hand  to  enroll 
my  name.  I  was  very  zealous,  apparently,  in  my  wishes 
to  light  the  abolitionists,  and  by  skilfully  guarding  my 
speech,  led  my  comrades  to  think  I  was  the  best  seces- 
sionist of  them  all.  The  sergeant  presented  me  with  a 
splendid  Colt's  navy  revolver,  which  had  just  been  stolen 
from  the  United  States.  I  requested  him  to  load  it  for 
me,  as  I  was  not  posted  in  that  sort  of  thing.  He  did  so. 
Those  five  charges  are  still  in  the  barrels,  and  so  help 
me,  they  shall  never  be  fired  off'  until  they  are  discharged 
into  the  body  of  the  sergeant  who  loaded  it. 

I  got  away  from  the  armory,  and  hurried  home,  where 
I  found  Powers  making  preparations  to  go  North  by  the 
next  train,  which  left  at  half  past  ten  that  night.  I  UAd 
him  I  must  get  away  from  Augusta  that  night  at  any 


246  A  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 

cost  I  asked  him  to  take  my  carpet-bag  on  board  tbe 
train,  and  if  I  did  not  call  for  it  in  a  certain  time,  to  send 
it  to  my  family  in  Dubuque.     He  said  be  would  do  so. 

I  locked  up  my  store  and  house,  the  one  completely 
furnished  from  top  to  bottom,  and  the  other  containing 
some  nine  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  goods,  which  I  was 
obliged  to  leave  behind  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  rebels. 

I  then  repaired  to  the  depot  nearly  an  hour  before  the 
time  for  the  departure  of  the  train,  and  secreted  myself 
under  the  rear  car,  on  a  cross-piece  which  connected  the 
Avheels.  Grasping  my  pistol  in  my  hand,  and  resolving 
to  shoot  the  first  man  who  should  discover  me,  I  waited 
for  events.  Soon  after  I  had  gained  this  position  the 
Vigilance  Committee  came  into  the  depot.  They  were 
a  party  of  men  appointed  to  see  that  no  Northern  meu 
went  away  on  the  train,  and  to  exercise  a  general  surveil- 
lance over  all  suspicious  characters.  If  they  discovered 
a  Northern  man,  he  was  taken  out,  whipped,  and  otherwise 
maltreated — usually  shot ;  so  I  knew  what  my  fate  would 
be,  if  I  was  detected.  As  the  hour  for  starting  drew  near, 
my  suspense  was  agonizing  in  the  extreme.  Finally  a 
little  incident  occurred  which  probably  insured  my  sal- 
vation from  their  clutches.  The  committee  went  through 
the  cars  after  the  passengers  were  seated,  and  closely 
questioning  and  scrutinizing  every  individual.  In  one 
car  they  found  an  old  man  who  answered  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  a  man  who  had  been  tarred  and  feathered  at 
Savannah  and  shipped  off.  Appending  to  the  dispatch 
describing  him,  was  the  Christian  injunction,  "If  you 
catch  him,  give  him  hell." 

One  of  the  rufi&ans  lifted  his  gray  locks  and  saw  the 
tar  still  adhering  to  his  brow,  where  he  had  been  unable 
to  remove  it.  He  fairly  yelled  with  delight  "  Here's  the 
old  devil.  We've  got  him !"  etc.  etc.  They  howled  and 
then  dragged  him  from  the  car  to  the  platform  outside, 
although  they  did  not  know  of  a  thing  he  had  done  amiss. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  aged  man  respectfully,  "  I  am  an 


A  RACE  FOR  LIFE.  24T 

old  man,  and  do  not  know  that  I  ever  did  any  man  wrong 
All  I  ask  is  for  the  privilege  of  getting  Lome  to  my 
family.     I  beg  you  will  release  me." 

They  laughed  his  entreaties  to  scorn,  and  bore  him 
away  in  the  dark,  screeching  and  yelling  like  demons, 
doubtless  to  torture  him  with  scourges,  and  perhaps  to 
murder  him  as  they  have  so  many  before  him.  Duiiiig 
all  this  time  I  lay  within  a  dozen  feet  of  some  of  the 
part}^  expecting  every  moment  I  would  be  discovered 
by  some  unlucky  friend.  It  is  well  for  him  and  me  he 
did  not,  for  that  moment  would  have  been  the  signal  for 
his  death.  I  would  have  shot  as  many  as  I  could,  and 
died  dearly. 

At  last  the  train  moved  out  of  the  depot  slowly  around 
a  curve,  and  when  it  was  out  of  the  range  of  the  depot 
lamps  I  dropped  from  my  perch  and  clambered  upon  the 
rear  car.  Going  into  the  car,  I  sat  down  in  the  darkest 
corner,  and  drew  my  hat  over  my  face  in  order  to  escape 
recognition.  By  feigning  sleep  I  escaped  the  attention 
and  "remarks  of  my  townsmen,  many  of  whomx  were  on 
board  of  the  train,  until  morning,  when  Ave  reached 
Atlanta,  some  two  hundred  miles  from  Augusta.  If  I 
could  get  beyond  there  I  knew  I  was  comparatively  safe, 
as  there  was  no  telegraph  between  that  place  and  Chat- 
tanooga, though  there  was  one  from  Augusta  to  Atlanta. 

It  was  daylight  when  we  left  Atlanta,  so  that  iurther 
concealment  was  impossible.  My  fellow  passengers  ex- 
pressed considerable  surprise  at  seeing  me,  and  were 
anxious  to  know  where  I  was  going.  I  informed  them 
that  I  was  going  to  Chattanooga,  as  usual,  to  purchase  a 
large  quantity  of  bacon,  in  which  I  was  dealing  exten- 
sively. Men  of  my  acquaintance,  whom  I  knew  to  be  in 
the  same  business,  were  also  going  after  bacon,  beef,  pork, 
flour,  and  grain,  and  such  other  provisions  as  we  were 
forced  to  purchase  in  the  more  northern  States 

We  all  talked  secession,  loudly ;  and  wore  cockades, 
and  invoked  destruction  upon  the  Federal  government ; 


248  PLfCK  ON  THE  FRONTIER. 

and  none  were  more  violent  in  the  discussion  than  T.  It 
Avas  my  only  alternutive.  I  was  fleeing  for  life,  and  the 
merest  hair  might  turn  the  race  against  me.  When  we 
arrived  at  Chattanooga,  we  found  the  markets  almost  as 
high  as  at  Augusta,  so  we  concluded  to  go  on  as  far  as 
Nashville.  On  our  arrival  there  we  found  that  the  Com- 
missary of  the  Confederate  army  had  fairly  skinned  the 
town  of  everything  worth  having  in  the  way  of  provisions, 
BO  there  was  nothing  left  for  us  but  to  go  on  as  far  as 
Louisville,  where  we  could  obtain  an  unlimited  supply  at 
reasonable  rates. 

There  were  five  cars  of  us  all  going  for  provisions. 
At  last  we  landed  in  Louisville,  and  found  to  our  disap- 
pomtment  (?)  the  inducements  were  so  small  for  buying 
there,  the  only  alternative  left  was  to  go  to  the  great 
fountain  head  at  Cincinnati,  and  buy  what  we  wanted. 
We  all  went  across  the  river  into  Indiana,  and  every  soul 
of  us  got  aboard  of  the  cars  for  Cincinnati. 

Just  before  the  train  was  about  to  start,  an  old  man 
arose  and  made  this  remark :  "  Gentlemen,  I  don't  know 
how  you  all  feel,  but  I  thank  God  I  am  on  free  soil  once 
more."  Oh  !  you  should  have  heard  the  shout  that  went 
up.  Every  man  of  us  had  been  fleeing  from  Southern  traitors, 
and  dare  not  avow  it  to  each  other.  We  all  got  out  of 
the  cars  again  upon  the  platform,  and  there  refreshed  our 
throats  for  once  with  three  loud  cheers  for  Freedom 


PLUOK  ON  THE  PEONTIER. 

Before  the  secession  of  Arkansas,  one  Thomas  Wilhito 
Attached  himself  to  a  company  of  minute  men,  Avho  were 
to  be  ready  at  a  moment's  warning  to  respond  to  the  call 
of  public  danger.  The  most  of  the  company  were  at 
heart  Union  men,  and  they  secretly  resolved  to  make 
their  organization  subservient  to  their  own  Avishes. 
While  matters  were  in  this  situation,  one  James  M,  Scott 


PLUCK  OX  THE  FRONTIER.  249 

raised  a  secession  flag  in  Cove  Creek  Townsliip,  and 
called  on  the  minute  men  to  rally  beneath  it.  The  mi- 
vules  just  then  became  hours,  and  Wilhite  and  his  com- 
panions made  haste  to  rally  very  sloivhj.  In  fact,  they 
flatly  refused  to  do  so,  and  Mr.  Scott's  banner  hung  lazily 
from  the  staflf,  looking  for  all  the  world  as  though  it  had 
been  brought  out  to  droop  and  die.  Wilhite  had  now 
thoroughly  committed  himself  to  the  Union  cause,  and  it 
behooved  him  to  look  well  to  his  personal  safety.  The 
rebel  element  predominated  in  his  neighborhood,  and  the 
"strikers"  and  "tools"  of  the  secession  leaders  were  im- 
placable in  their  resentments.  Not  considering,  however, 
that  his  immediate  personal  peril  was  so  great  as  to  war- 
rant an  abrupt  departure  from  the  State,  and  yet  feeling 
that  he  must  never  go  about  unarmed,  Wilhite  remained 
at  home,  and  prepared  to  "  make  a  crop."  When  follow- 
ing the  plow,  a  trusty  rifle  was  invariably  slung  from  his 
back,  and  a  brace  of  revolvers  were  belted  about  him. 
At  night  the  rifle  stood  at  the  head  of  the  bed,  and  he 
often  slept  with  his  revolvers  on.  Several  times,  when 
in  the  field,  he  descried  men  coming  to  take  him  prisoner. 
He  would  then  leave  the  plow  in  the  furrow,  slip  into 
the  woods,  and  remain  there  until  his  enemies  went  away. 
There  was  no  danger  of  their  interfering  with  the  horses 
or  the  plow.  They  knew  too  well  the  deadliness  of  his 
aim,  and  the  disagreeable  doubt  as  to  who  would  be  his 
victim,  kept  them  all  away  from  the  peril. 

One  day  in  June,  six  rebels,  knowing  that  he  was  at 
home,  rode  hastily  up  to  take  him,  but  he  was  too  quick 
for  them,  and,  dodging  around  a  corner  of  the  house, 
with  his  rifle  and  revolvers,  held  his  advantage  while  a 
parley  took  place.  The?/  informed  him  that  they  had 
come  to  arrest  him  because  he  was  a  Union  man.  He 
informed  them  that  they  would  have  to  reinforce  and  come 
again,  that  six  men  were  not  enough  for  the  business,  and 
that  if  any  of  them  "dropped  a  gun,"  one  man  would  fall 
«twe,  and  they  would  not  know  beforehand  who  it  was  to 


250  PLUCK  ON  THE  FRONTIER. 

be.  Like  their  predecessors,  wlio  scouted  the  corn-field, 
thev  returned  as  wise  as  they  came,  even  requesting  that 
they  might  ride  away  unharmed. 

Not  long  afterwards,  another  squad  rode  up  to  the 
house  for  a  similar  purpose.  Fortunately  ^^^ilhite  was 
absent,  but  his  mother  was  considerately  shown  the  rope 
with  which  they  intended  to  hang  him.  Going  during 
the  same  summer  to  Kidd's  mill,  near  Cane  Ilill,  for  flour 
for  the  family,  a  knot  of  men  gathered  around  and  "  al- 
lowed" to  take  him  prisoner  On  the  other  hand,  he 
"a] lowed"  that  if  they  made  any  such  attempt,  he  should 
defend  himself  to  the  last ;  that  he  had  thirteen  shots,  and 
should  try  his  best  to  make  some  of  them  "tell,"  and 
that  they  could  not  take  him  alive.  His  determination 
subdued  the  crowd  somewhat,  and  a  merchant  of  the  place, 
interceding  in  his  behalf,  on  the  ground  that  he  might 
yet  make  a  good  soiUhern  soldier,  he  was  permitted  to 
transact  his  business  at  the  mill  and  return  home. 

There  was  living  at  this  time  not  far  away  from  "Wil- 
hite,  a  Baptist  minister,  known  by  many  as  "  Old  Tommy 
Dodson,  the  preacher,"  otherwise  rejoicing  in  the  chriii- 
tened  name  of  Thomas.  He  was  a  violent  secessionist, 
and  preached  whenever  audiences  could  be  assembled, 
whether  on  the  Sabbath  or  during  tlie  week;  nor  did  he 
confine  liimself  to  Biblical  teaching.  The  sword  of  the 
spirit  was  not,  in  his  judgment,  the  only  weapon  to  be 
wielded  for  the  Confederacy.  His  tirades  were  frequent 
and  unsparing  against  Union  men  and  Black  Republi- 
cans, who,  if  they  did  not  recant,  were  to  be  driven  off  or 
shot.  On  one  occasion,  when  Wilhite  attended  his  ser- 
vices,  the  congregation  was  quite  large  for  the  locality, 
and  in  it  were  several  soldiers  belonging  to  the  regular 
rebel  army.  The  preacher's  harangue  savored,  as  usual, 
of  public  affairs.  The  secession  of  the  State  was  justi- 
fied;  the  public  functionaries  at  Richmond  lauded;  a 
highly-wrought  prophecy  of  the  grandeur  of  the  new 
Republic  was  pronounced,  and  then  fell  the  ministerial 


PLUCK  ON  THE  TRONTIER.  251 

denunciation  on  all  those  wlio  still  clung  to  the  old  go- 
vernment. Warming  with  his  subject,  and  evidently 
fifrowiug  indignant,  he  exclaimed — 

"  If  there  is  a  Union  man  within  the  sound  of  my  voice, 
I  want  him  to  leave  the  house,  and  leave  it  now — a." 

Thinking  it  about  time  to  depart,  and  having  no  re 
luctance  to  define  his  position,  Wilhite  started  for  the 
door. 

"  Then,  go — a,"  resumed  the  excited  and  now  somewhat 
exhausted  preacher,  moving  towards  the  retreating  Fed- 
eral, "  and  darken  not  again  the  house  of  God.  And  do 
you,  my  brave  boj-s,"  pointing  to  the  rebel  soldiers, 
"fight  on  for  the  glo-o-o-rious  Southern  Confederacy. 
The  Lord  is  on  our  side.  The  Lord  will  help  us  to  gain 
the  independence  of  the  South."  By  this  time  Wilhite 
was  in  the  yard,  and  the  Rev.  Thomas  Dodson  began 
slowly  to  return  to  his  normal  condition.  Eighteen 
months  later,  the  same  clerical  gentleman  was  an  inmate 
of  the  guard-house  at  Fayetteville,  under  charges  for  trial 
before  a  military  commission,  to  sit  at  Springfield,  and 
Wilhite  was  ofiicer  of  the  guard. 

Alas  I  the  mutations  of  sublunary  affairs. 

The  summer  and  autumn  passed  without  any  special 
peril  to  Wilhite,  other  than  that  referred  to,  except  that 
the  necessity  for  vigilance  was  greater,  so  much,  in  fact, 
that  in  November  he  was  compelled  to  "  lay  out."  Anti- 
cipating a  winter  of  trouble,  unless  he  were  to  take  un- 
usual precautions  against  it,  he  had,  by  night,  hauled  one 
hundred  bushels  of  corn  and  some  other  forage  to  a 
secluded  spot  on  the  Boston  Mountains,  intending  to  pass 
the  winter  in  a  cave  and  subsist  a  few  horses.  In  this 
manner  he  lived,  clandestinely,  until  the  month  of  May, 
with  William  Zinnamon,  who,  for  a  time,  had  been  his 
companion  in  the  cave. 

Colonel  M.  La  Rue  Harrison  was  then  organizing  the 
Arkansian  refugees  into  what  subsequently  became  the 
First   Regiment  of  Arkansas  Cavalry  Volunteers,  and 


252  PLUCK  ON  THE  FRONTTER. 

Wilhite  at  once  identified  himself  witli  the  project. 
Being  empowered  not  long  afterwards  as  a  recruiting 
officer  for  the  regiment,  he  left  Springfield  on  the  5th  of 
July,  with  Dr.  Wm.  Hunter,  of  Washington  County,  and 
Thomas  J.  Gilstrap,  of  Crawford  County,  afterwards 
respectively  assistant  surgeon  and  a  lieutenant  in  the 
same  regiment.  Falling  in  with  the  expedition  com- 
manded by  Major  Miller,  they  proceeded  with  it  to 
Fayetteville,  whence  they  moved  on  to  the  head  of  White 
Eiver. 

Recruiting  in  Arkansas  for  the  Union  Army  was  at  that 
time  a  perilous  undertaking.  Loyal  men  avowed  their 
principles  at  the  hazard  of  life,  and  the  greatest  difficulty 
to  be  overcome  was  in  getting  recruits  to  the  rendezvous 
of  the  regiment  for  which  enlistments  were  being  made. 
The  Provost  Marshal's  department  of  Arkansas,  as  organ- 
ized by  Major  General  Hindman,  then  commanding  the 
trans-Mississippi  district,  was  in  active  operation.  Numer- 
ous companies  of  provost  guards  had  been  formed,  and, 
under  color  of  orders,  were  robbing  Union  men  and  com- 
mitting all  manner  of  outrages.  They  were  especially 
zealous  in  their  efforts  to  check  the  growing  tendency  to 
enlist  in  the  "  Abolition  Army,"  as  they  termed  it,  and 
hunted  with  the  eagerness  of  a  bloodhound  those  Union 
men  who,  first  cautious,  and  then  expeditious,  abandoned 
their  homes  for  the  woods,  and  the  woods  for  the  Federal 
pickets.  The  general  order  gave  license  to  rapine,  and 
stimulated  the  blind  zeal  of  a  prejudiced  people. 

By  arrangement,  Wilhite  and  Gilstrap,  having  for 
recruiting  purposes  gone  into  different  neighborhoods, 
were  to  meet  at  a  house  on  Fall  Creek,  in  Washington 
County,  and  there  concert  measures  for  the  removal,  or 
getting  northward  rather,  of  their  recruits.  For  some 
reason  or  other,  Gilstrap  had  departed  on  Wilhite's  arri- 
val, and  the  latter  having  with  him  twenty-eight  men, 
determined  to  retire  into  the  White  River  Hills  and  the 
Boston  Mountains,  and  collecting   from   the   adjoining 


PLUCK  ON  THE  FRONTIER.  253 

settlements  still  other  men  who  were  anxious  to  get  away, 
bide  his  time  for  departure.  At  first  he  went  to  Winn's 
Creek,  at  the  head  of  the  west  fork  of  White  Kiver.  His 
re-appearance  in  a  country  where  he  was  so  well  known, 
and  his  object  thoroughly  understood,  caused  great  watch- 
fulness on  tlie  part  of  the  secession  element.  One,  Doctor 
H.  Spencer  in  particular,  afterwards  a  citizen  prisoner,  at 
Springfield,  Missouri,  under  the  general  charge  of  robbing 
Union  men,  was  very  active  in  his  endeavors  to  find  out 
how  many  recruits  Wilhite  had.  An  old,  vindictive 
man,  with  a  countenance  that  would  have  betrayed  him 
in  a  church,  we  well  remember  his  appearance  when 
brought  before  us  for  examination.  He  had  hunted 
Wilhite  and  others  as  the  woodman  seeks  his  game,  and 
we  made  short  work  of  preliminaries.  Spencer,  a  home 
gu:.rd  himself,  and  co-operating  with  the  bands  now 
organized  and  organizing  under  the  general  order  before 
mentioned,  placed  every  impediment  possible  in  the  way 
of  the  daring  recruiting  officer. 

There  were  now  in  Crawford  and  Washington  Counties, 
carrying  out  the  spirit,  if  not  the  letter  of  the  order,  no 
less  than  six  companies  led  by  notorious  marauders,  all 
of  whom  were  on  the  track  of  Wilhite.  He  still,  how- 
ever, succeeded  in  avoiding  capture.  His  rendezvous 
was  the  wilds  of  the  Boston'Mountains;  his  subsistence 
the  irregular  hospitality  of  secret  Union  men,  and  his 
comrades,  now  together  and  now  apart,  increased  their 
numbers  and  their  resolution  alike  by  daring  and  danger. 
His  camp  of  instruction  was  a  thicket  or  a  hill,  and  his 
times  for  drill  the  opportune  moments  when  provost 
guards  came  within  range,  and  his  trusty  weapons  made 
targets  of  traitors. 

Lying  in  the  woods  one  day  in  August,  with  six  men, 
a  bloodhound  was  heard  baying  in  the  distance,  and  appa- 
rently on  liis  track.  Like  a  general  in  the  field,  Wilhite  i  rn- 
med lately  made  '•'  his  dispositions,"'  each  man  taking  a  tree. 
and  re-examining  his  weapons.   Their  horses  were  tied  in  a 


254-  PLUCK  ON  THE  FRONTIER. 

thicket  a  short  distance  off,  and  they  now  awaited  the 
approach.  Presently  a  number  of  men  were  observed 
advancing;  the  hound  had  been  called  in,  and  they  moved 
very  cautiously,  dismounting-  when  they  observed  Wilhite, 
and  creeping  warily  toward  him.  Discovering  three  men 
evidently  endeavoring  to  get  a  safe  shot  at  him,  he  an- 
ticipated their  design  by  commencing  hostilities  with  both 
barrels  of  his  shot-gun.  Wounding  two,  the  third  placed 
a  tree  between  himself  and  danger,  and  afterwards  still 
further  increased  his  chances  for  life  by  slipping  away 
entirely. 

This  attack,  more  sudden  and  effective  than  they  had 
anticipated,  cooled  the  ardor  of  the  home  guards,  and 
though  a  number  of  guns  were  fired,  which  but  for  the 
friendly  protection  of  the  forest  would  have  been  deadly 
in  their  effect,  they  fell  back,  remounted  their  horses, 
and  rode  off.  Wilhite  now  assumed  the  offensive,  and 
approaching  the  highway  by  a  devious  but  rapid  and 
effective  movement,  came  suddenly  upon  his  foes  of  the 
hour  before  Singling  out  the  leader  of  the  party  as  the 
object  of  his  personal  aim,  he  missed  the  man,  but  killed 
his  horse.  Several  others,  however,  were  wounded,  but 
succeeded  in  escajiing.  This  little  affair  roused  the  leaders 
again,  and  vigilance  was  redoubled.  Rallying  under  the 
provost  marshal  of  Crawford  County,  two  hundred  camped 
one  evening  at  the  three  forks  of  Lee's  Creek,  in  the  county 
last  mentioned.  From  a  high  bluff  adjacent  to,  and  over- 
looking their  camp,  Wilhite  had  watched  them  for  several 
hours,  and  when  niuht  set  in,  knowing^  that  he  could  not 
attack,  for  he  had  but  two  men,  he  nevertheless  deter- 
mined to  acquaint  them  with  his  proximity.  Hallooing 
with  ail  his  might,  he  informed  whom  it  might  concern, 
that  if  they  wanted  him  they  must  catch  him,  as  it  would 
be  unpleasant  just  then  to  surrender. 

How  or  why,  we  are  unable  to  say,  but  early  on  the 
following  morning  the  guards  decamped.  Possibly  they 
feared  an  attack ;  and  then,  again,  should  they  assume  the 


PLUCK  ON  THE  FRONTIER.  255 

offensive,  tlie  disagreeable  uncertainty  of  the  bushes  was 
too  fresh  in  memory  to  be  rashly  courted.  Wilhite  lin- 
gered long  enough  to  see  his  enemies  disappear,  when  he 
dashed  again  into  the  woods.  A  short  time  after  this 
occurrence,  his  father  was  arrested  while  moving  along 
the  highway  near  the  west  fork  of  the  White  Eiver. 
There  was  with  him  a  small  boy,  who,  not  being  inter- 
fered with,  hastened  as  expeditiously  as  he  dared  to  the 
hiding  place,  not  far  away,  of  two  of  Wilhite's  men. 
They  were  there,  fortunately,  and  knowing  where  Wil- 
hite then  was,  lost  no  time  in  acquainting  him  with  his 
father's  arrest.  Hurriedly  collecting  four  of  his  men,  he 
started  down  the  Van  Buren  Road,  and  after  a  sharp  run 
of  nine  miles,  overtook  his  father,  then  guarded  by  seven 
men.  Four  of  the  guards  "broke"  for  the  woods,  and 
the  remaining  three  were  taken,  dismounted,  relieved  of 
their  arms,  and  then  set  at  liberty. 

About  this  time  a  warrant  for  the  arrest  and  execution 
of  Wilhite  was  procured  from  the  rebel  military  author- 
ities. It  proving  somewhat  difiicult  to  proceed  under 
this  warrant,  according  to  its  exigency.  General  Hindman 
offered  a  reward  of  seven  thousand  dollars,  and  three 
honorable  discharges  from  the  Confederate  service  to  any 
man  who  would  bring  in  Williite,  livinj?  or  dead.  Xo- 
tices  to  this  effect  were  numerously  posted  along  Cove, 
Fall,  and  Lee's  Creeks,  and  the  west  fork  of  White  Eiver. 
Scouting  about  one  day  in  September,  with  a  number  of 
his  men,  and  having  occasion  to  cross  Lee's  Creek  near 
the  base  of  the  southern  slope  of  the  Boston  Mountains, 
Wilhite  discovered  one  of  these  notices  tacked  to  a  tree. 
CLaiming  the  right  to  "  cross  notice,"  he  appropriated  the 
margin  to  his  own  use  by  inscribing  thereon,  a  notification 
to  this  effect :  That  his  men  and  himself  claimed  f^^ty 
square  miles  of  the  Boston  Mountains,  and  that  if  Hind- 
man  and  his  provost  guards  trespassed  upon  their  do- 
minions, they  would  seek  to  drive  them  into  the  vaHey 
below,  and  there  assume  the  offensive.     He  now  takes 


256  PLUCK  ON  THE  FRONTIER. 

from  his  pocket  the  Jack  of  diamonds,  nails  it  to  the  tree, 
writing  above  the  liead  of  this  well-known  gentleman  the 
significant  word  "Union,"  informed  "Squire"  liindman, 
that  if  he  wants  him  he  must  first  catch  him,  and  to  be 
careful  at  the  same  time  that  he  does  not  "  catch  a  Tartar." 
The  party  now  rode  off. 

A  few  days  later,  when  Wilhite  was  lying  in  the  wooda 
near  the  summit  of  the  Boston  Mountains,  word  came  to 
him  that  General  liindman  himself  had  just  eaten  dinner 
at  a  house  not  far  distant,  and  that  he  was  then  on  the 
road  to  Fayetteville,  moving  in  a  carriage  with  a  body 
guard  of  but  six  men.  Hastily  gathering  a  few  of  his  com- 
panions, Wilhite  took  up  the  pursuit.  Bearing  still  further 
from  the  highway  than  he  then  was,  he  thought  to  strike 
it  again  in  advance  of  the  General,  but  in  this  he  failed. 
In  the  distance,  however,  he  descried  the  coveted  car- 
riage, and  hastened  forward  with  all  speed.  Tlie  pursued 
now  took  alarm  and  hurried  away  northward.  The  chase 
was  becoming  exciting,  but  unfortunately  for  the  pursuers 
they  were  nearing  the  rebel  pickets  at  Hog  Eye,  twelve 
miles  south  of  Fayetteville.  Conscious  that  they  had  no 
time  to  lose,  Wilhite  and  two  of  his  men  took  as  steady 
aim  as  circumstances  would  admit,  and  away  whizzed  a 
ball  after  the  carriage,  a  second,  and  then  a  third.  But 
General  liindman  was  still  safe,  though  the  pursuit  did 
not  cease  until  the  pickets,  his  body  guard  and  the  car- 
riage went  pell-mell  into  the  poetically  named  village  so 
conveniently  at  hand.  The  pursuers  now  wheeled  about 
and  hied  away  to  their  fastnesses. 

Leading  thus  a  life  of  wild  adventure,  Wilhite  passed 
his  time  on,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Boston  Mountains, 
until  the  advance  into  Arkansas  of  the  Army  of  the 
Frontier  in  October,  1862.  His  escapes  from  peril  were 
manifold.  His  superior  knowledge,  however,  of  the 
woods,  and  his  consciousness  of  the  fact  that  nature  would 
permit  only  a  few  men  to  operate  against  him  at  a  time, 
gave  him  confidence  and  strength,  and  though  there  were 


PLUCK  ON  THE  FRONTIER.  25T 

hundreds  of  rebels  on  all  sides  of  him,  to  the  Boston 
Mountains  he  did  not  bid  adieu,  until  of  his  own  volition 
he  reported  with  a  small  squad  of  men  to  General  Iler- 
ron,  at  Cross  Hollows,  twenty-eight  miles  south  of  tlie 
Missouri  line.  As  early  as  August  it  had  been  found 
impracticable  to  take  a  number  of  recruits  northward  in 
a  body,  and  Wilhite  had  accordingly  determined  to  remain 
in  the  mountains,  annoying  the  enemy  and  taking  ven- 
geance upon  those  who  had  so  cruelly  robbed  and  mal- 
treated Union  men,  until  his  passage  could  be  safely  and 
easily  made. 

From  Cross  Hollows,  Wilhite  proceeded  to  Elkhorn 
Tavern,  where  he  rejoined  his  company,  and  was  at  once 
appointed  its  first  lieutenant,  a  position  that  had  been  left 
vacant  for  months  in  the  hope  that  he  would  yet  arrive 
to  fill  it.  From  that  time  onward  Wilhite  was  constantly 
engaged  in  active  service,  always  entering  with  zest  upon 
the  adventures  for  which  there  is  so  much  incentive  on 
the  border.  On  one  occasion,  while  scouting  below  Fay 
etteville,  and  not  far  from  his  haunts  of  the  summer  pre- 
vious, he  drove  in  Marmaduke's  pickets,  and  then  suddenly 
wheeling  was  off"  again  to  the  northward.  He  partici- 
pated in  a  nocturnal  skirmish,  and  while  out  made  a 
descent  into  a  cave,  under  circumstances  worthy  perhaps 
of  a  relation. 

The  cave  in  question  was  located  about  six  miles  south- 
east of  Black's  Mills,  in  Benton  County,  and  was  one  in 
wliich  men  were  known  to  occasionally  secrete  themselves. 
To  it,  on  the  afternoon  preceding  the  skirmish,  the  detach- 
ment was  conducted.  Arriving  at  its  mouth,  and  observ- 
ing traces  of  the  recent  entrance  of  some  one,  the  men 
were  disposed  semi-circularly  around  it,  and  the  unknown 
individual  told  to  come  out.  No  response.  The  order 
was  repeated.  Still  no  answer.  Wilhite  now  volunteered 
to  crawl  in.  Buckling  a  brace  of  revolvers  fii-mly  about 
him,  and  grasping  a  third  in  his  right  hand,  he  com- 
menced operations.  Advancing  upon  all  fours,  and 
17 


258  A  NIGHT  ADVENTURE  OX  THE  POTOMAC. 

moving  about  seventy-five  yards  into  the  cave,  situated 
on  a  bill  side,  he  discovered  a  nnan  crouching  in  ap- 
parently great  fear.  Breaking  the  silence  by  ordering 
him  out,  the  figure  began  to  move  and  he  to  follow.  As 
the  unknown  individual  approached  the  light,  the  men 
brought  their  pieces  to  the  shoulder  and  awaited  his  ap- 
pearance. Presently  emerged  a  head,  then  shoulders, 
arms  and  hands.  At  sight  of  the  men  and  their  weapons, 
the  unknown  stopped  while  yet  midway  between  the 
upper  and  nether  earth,  i^ested  himself  firmly  on  his  hands, 
and  looking  queerly  up  and  around  him,  exclaimed, 
"  Well !  this  beats  me  !"  Ke  was  beaten  surely  enough, 
but  found  his  captors  inclined  to  treat  him  kindly. 
Taken  to  Elkhorn  he  was  afterwards  released,  but  cau- 
tioned to  refrain  in  the  future  from  running  when  he  saw 
Federals.     Thus  far  the  advice  has  been  heeded. 


A  NIGHT  ADVENTUSE  ON  THE  POTOMAC. 

I  was  invited  bv  a  soldier  of  the  regiment  of  the  "  Fire 
Zouaves"  to  accompany  him  in  one  of  those  private  ad- 
ventures which  were  so  popular  among  the  men  in  his 
corps,  while  upon  the  banks  of  the  Potomac. 

This  kind  of  expedition  always  carries  with  it  a  charm 
which  inflames  the  imagination  of  the  volunteer  to  a  de- 
gree unknown  in  the  more  precise  movements  of  a  regu- 
lar force.  The  individual  courage  of  the  man  seems  lost 
in  comparison  among  a  concentrated  mass  Avhich  depends 
for  its  success  not  so  much  upon  personal  prowess  as 
U|)()n  a  mechanical  exactitude  in  its  evolutions. 

Men  of  the  description  of  my  adventurous  friend  are 
generally  despisers  of  stiff-collared  coats  and  close  drill, 
and  especial  admirers  of  a  loose  jacket  and  a  "  free  fight." 
With  them  a  niartinet,  unless  he  prove  a  fighter,  is  simply 
iin  abomination. 

In  a  few  words,  acconipanied  by  some  mysterious  ges« 


A  NIGHT  ADVENTTJHE  ON  THE  POTOMAC.  259 

tures,  my  friend  n informed  me  that,  through  the 

disclosures  of  a  deserter  who  had  just  arrived  from  the 
rebel  lines,  he  had  learned  that  a  quantity  of  ammunition, 
consisting:  of  several  thousand  ball  cartridges  for  musket 
use,  had  been  concealed  in  an  upper  room  of  a  house  be- 
longing to  a  noted  secessionist  and  suspected  spy  This 
house  was  distant  about  three  miles  from  our  encamp- 
ment, and  the  cartridges  Avhich  were  concealed  therein 
had  been  packed  in  small  canvas  bags;  these  bags  the 
daring  fellow  proposed,  with  the  assistance  of  myself  to 
capture  or  destroy.  His  plan  was  thus  :  We  were  to  ob- 
tain, by  some  means,  a  horse  and  wagon,  to  be  ready  at 
a  certain  point,  a  short  distance  from  the  camp,  at  sunset, 
and  each  proceed  thither  by  different  routes,  in  order  the 
better  to  avoid  observation,  and  as  soon  as  darkness  fell 
upon  the  scene,  drive  cautiously  to  within  a  few  hundred 
yards  of  the  dwelling  containing  the  contemplated  plunder. 
Then,  hiding  the  wagon  in  a  neighboring  clump  of  trees, 
some  distance  from  the  road,  we  were  to  proceed  in  such 
a  manner  as  circumstances  would  permit.  In  answer  to 
my  inquiries  as  to  the  feasibility  of  procuring  the  wagon, 
and  the  possibility  of  our  ever  being  able  to  load  it  even 
if  we  succeeded  in  coming  in  contact  with  the  coveted 

.  .  .      -I 

ammunition  bags,  I  was  greeted  by  a  significant  wink 
and  two  or  three  slow  successive  nods  of  the  head,  which, 
if  not  productive  of  much  intelligence,  were  quite  indi- 
cative of  the  Zouave's  determination  to  carry  out  his 
design. 

The  sun  was  declining  when  I  started  on  my  journey, 
taking  a  somewhat  circuitous  path  to  the  place  of  rendez- 
vous, and  walking  in  an  irregular  strolling  manner,  the 
better  to  escape  the  observation  of  the  comrades  of  my 
friend,  who  were  always  on  the  alert  for  any  adventure. 
Behind  a  rising  and  well-wooded  piece  of  ground,  I  soon 

discovered  my  friend  H ,  coolly  seated  in  a  one-horse 

wagon,  smoking  a  short  pipe,  and  at  intervals,  philoso- 
phically lecturing  a  ragged  son  of  Africa  upon  the  pro- 


260  A  NIGHT  ADVENTrRE  ON  THE  POTOMAC. 

priety  of  his  meeting  us  at  this  same  spot  on  the  follow- 
ing night,  in  order  to  receive  his  hofv^e  and  vehicle,  and 
the  desired  remuneration  for  the  use  of  them.  After 
many  doubtful  scratches  of  his  woolly  head^  and  singular 
expressions  of  dissatisfaction — all  of  which  were  met  by 
threat  disgust  and  heavy  threats  on  the  part  of  the  Zouave 
of  a  marvellous  punishment  to  be  dealt  out  to  the  muti- 
nous "  darky"  if  he  presumed  to  dog  our  path — he  per- 
mitted us  to  depart,  and  we  left  him,  evidently  in  a  thick 
fog  as  to  the  fate  of  the  property  so  inconsiderately  in- 
trusted to  the  safe  keeping  of  a  stranger. 

After  a  short  drive,  during  which  but  few  words  were 
spoken,  we  arrived  at  the  spot  where  we  had  agreed  to 
conceal  the  horse  and  wagon.  This  operation  effected, 
we  next  proceeded  to  calculate  chances.     After  a  few 

parting  puff?,  H shook  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  thrust 

it  into  the  pocket  of  his  jacket,  and  drawing  forth  from 
the  wagon  a  coil  of  fine  rope,  which  he  hung  round  his 
neck,  gave  the  word  to  advance.  It  was  now  pitch  dark; 
the  distance  from  the  place  of  our  destination  two  hun- 
dred yards,  according  to  my  comrade's  estimate.  A 
solitary  light,  gleaming  red  amid  the  darkness  ahead  of 
us,  betrayed  the  spot  where  stood  the  building  which 
contained  the  object  of  our  expedition.  With  this  light 
for  our  guide,  we  cautiously  advanced  in  silence,  un- 
broken save  by  the  occasional  snapping  of  some  dried 
twigs  beneath  our  feet,  and  the  muttered  malediction  be- 
stowed upon  it  by  my  companion. 

At  length,  we  came  into  close  proximity  to  the  house. 
Everything  seemed  to  be  buried  in  a  deep  stillness.  Not 
a  sound  could  we  hear.  Not  the  warning  growl  of  a  dog 
gave  notice  of  our  approach.  No  light  was  visible,  but 
the  one  which  had  hitherto  been  our  guide,  and  this  still 
shone  from  the  half-closed  casement  of  an  apartment  on 
the  ground  floor.  The  window-sill  was  about  as  high 
from  the  ground  as  the  ordinary  height  of  a  man,  and 
under  this  we  crept  and  crouched  to  listen  for  any  sounds 


A  NIGUT  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  POTOMAC.  261 

that  miglit  escape  from  tlie  interior.     Directly  over  this 

room,  H told  me,  our  intended  prize  was  concealed. 

He  was  thoroughly  informed  as  to  the  relative  positions 
of  the  different  passages  necessary  to  pass  throiigli  in 
order  to  gain  the  desired  treasure.  The  darkness  of  the 
night  was  so  dense  that  it  was  with  difficulty  we  could 
discern  the  presence  of  each  other,  as  we  lay  and  lis 
tened. 

Suddenly  there  was  bustle  within  and  the  sound  of 
several  voices.  The  warning  produced  by  the  low,  hiss- 
ing "hush"  of  my  comrade  prevented  a  half-uttered  ex- 
clamation of  surprise  from  fully  escaping  my  lips.  This 
noise  of  men  and  voices  was  evidently  caused  by  a  large 
party  now  collected  in  the  room  in  which  the  light  was 
burning.  They  must  have  entered  the  house  from  the 
other  side,  and  the  clang  of  arms,  as  we  distinctly  heard 
the  men  carelessly  lay  aside  their  weapons,  assured  us 
they  were  no  neutrals  in  the  struggle  going  on  between 
our  divided  countrjmien. 

From  fatigue,  arising  from  the  constrained  posture  in 
which  I  lay,  I  made  a  sudden  movement,  which  caused 
me  to  fall  against  my  companion,  at  the  same  time  making 
the  gravel  beneath  my  feet  send  forth  the  grating  sound 
peculiar  to  it  when  suddenly  and  violently  disturbed.  In 
an  instant  the  sounds  within  ceased  (silenced  by  the  sus- 
picions caused  by  my  most  unfortunate  stumbling),  the 
casement  was  dashed  open,  and  half  a  dozen  heads  were 
thrust  out  into  the  gloom.  A  movement  now,  if  no  louder 
than  that  the  lizard  makes  among  the  grass,  or  a  single 
sigh  forced  from  our  beating  hearts  and  compressed 
breath,  would  have  been  the  forerunner  of  certain  death. 
Nothing  could  have  saved  us  from  the  fate  of  the  spy. 
For  several  minutes  we  remained  motionless,  and  heard 
various  conjectures  among  the  men  as  to  the  cause  of  their 
sudden  alarm.  Little  did  they  imagine  that  at  that  moment, 
within  a  few  feet  of  their  knives,  which  more  than  one 
grasped  in  his  hand  unsheathed,  lay,  concealed  by  tho 


262  A  NIGHT  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  POTOMAC. 

darkness,  two  of  the  hated  invaders.  But  we  would  have 
been  found  no  easy  sacrifice.  Each  of  us  covered  with 
tlie  muzzle  of  his  revolver  the  breast  of  a  foe,  and  the 
first  intimation  given  of  our  discovery  would  have  cost 
them  at  least  two  lives  that  night. 

At  length  they  withdrew  their  heads  into  the  apart- 
ment, half  closed  the  casement  as  before,  and  we  were 
again  alone.  "Whether  they  retired  perfectly  satisfied  as 
to  the  result  cf  their  blind  inspection  or  not,  we  could 

not  tell.     It  was  at  this  moment  that  H ,  grasping  me 

by  the  arm,  Avhispered  me  to  follow  him  closely  In 
croucliing  attitudes  we  crept  round  the  building;  each 
step  taken  with  peculiar  care,  lest  any  unlucky  sound  on 
our  part  should  again  arouse  suspicion,  which,  in  all  pro- 
bability, was  still  unallayed. 

After  many  cautions  pauses  and  anxious  straining  of 
eye  and  ear,  we  reached  the  other  side  of  the  house,  where, 
after  proceeding  a  few  steps,  my  leader  halted  and  be- 
gan exploring  with  his  hand,  until  it  lighted  upon  the 
latch  of  a  door  in  the  wall.  Placing  his  mouth  close  to 
my  ear,  he  again  whispered  me  that  it  was  of  vitai  im- 
portance we  should  cast  oft"  our  shoes  and  carry  them  in 
our  hands,  as  by  leaving  them  behind  they  might  be 
found  by  the  enemy,  and  thus  become  the  means  of  be- 
traying us.  Accordingly,  in  a  few  seconds,  we  stood  in 
our  stockings,  ready  to  pursue  to  the  last  limit  the  wind- 
ings of  the  adventure.     Noiselessly  lifting  the  door-latch, 

II led  the  way  into  a  passage,  if  possible  darker  than 

the  outside  gloom  from  which  we  entered. 

Groping  our  way  we  carefully  advanced,  and  reached 
the  foot  of  a  flight  of  stairs,  which,  at  a  sign  from  my 
companion,  we  ascended  as  swiftly  as  the  imperative 
necessity  for  a  perfect  silence  permitted.  We  reached 
the  landing,  whose  extent  was  hidden  in  the  same  impene- 
trable darkness,  traversed  it  for  the  distance  of  several 

feet,  and  at  lensrth  arrived  at  a  door,  which  H at- 

tempted  to  open,  but  found  locked.     This  he  assured  me 


A  NIGHT  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  POTOMAC.  263 

•was  the  room  whicla  contained  the  cartridge-bags,  and 
not  to  gain  entrance  into  it  would  render  all  the  risk  we 
had  hitherto  run  useless,  as  all  further  attempts  we  might 
make  would  prove  unavailing. 

At  this  crisis  of  our  proceedings  we  discovered,  within 
a  few  feet  of  us,  a  small  window,  which,  on  gently  open- 
ing, we  found  led  out  upon  the  roof  of  the  piazza  that  ran 
along  all  sides  of  the  house.  To  step  out  upon  this  rool; 
closing  the  window  after  us  as  gently  as  we  had  opened 
it,  was  the  work  of  a  few  seconds.  Here  we  lay  down, 
at  full  length,  for  several  minutes  to  listen  ;  but  no  sound 
reached  ns,  excepting  an  indistinct  clamor  proceeding 
from  the  room  beneath,  in  which  was  assembled  the  party 
of  rebels.  Relinquishing  our  recumbent  postures,  we 
crept  on  our  hands  and  knees  until  we  reached  the  next 
window,  which  belonged  to  the  room  we  were  so  anxious 
to  explore.  To  our  great  satisfaction,  we  found  it  not 
only  unfastened,  but  opened  wide,  and,  one  after  the  other, 
we  passed  through  into  the  interior.  Again  we  paused 
in  motionless  silence,  and  again  we  listened  intently,,  but 
nothing  beyond  the  sounds  already  mentioned  met  our 
ears,  and  we  proceeded  to  search  in  darkness  for  the  bags 
of  ammunition.  We- came  upon  them  simultaneously  in 
one  corner  of  the  room,  piled  into  a  heap.  We  com- 
menced our  work  at  once  by  passing  them  out  two  at  a 
time,  through  the  window  upon  the  piazza  roof.  Silently 
and  swiftly  was  the  task  accomplished,  until  not  a  bag 
remained.  We  searched  every  foot  of  the  floor,  travers- 
ing its  length  and  breadth  until  we  were  thoroughly 
convinced  ourselves  were  the  sole  objects,  animate  or 
inanimate,  it  contained. 

Passing  out,  our  next  movement  was  to  carry  round  the 
V):igs  to  the  extreme  end  of  the  piazza.  This  involved  the 
necessity  of  traversing  the  full  length  of  one  side  of  the 
building.  With  much  labor  and  anxiety,  as  we  had  to  pro- 
ceed more  warily  than  ever,  at  each  step,  we  at  last  accom- 
plished it.     And  now  we  held  a  consultation,  whether  it 


2G4  A  NIGHT  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  POTOMAC. 

were  better  to  risk  the  attempt  of  carrying  off  our  prize 
by  degrees  to  the  spot  where  we  had  concealed  the  wagon^ 
or  destroy  it  at  once  by  lowering  bag  alter  bag  into  a  deep 

well,  H informed  me  was  directly  beneath  us,  as  Ave 

leaned  over  the  balcony  of  the  piazza.  We  concluded  the 
latter  plan  was  the  best,  and  accordingly,  my  companion 
uncoiling  the  rope  he  still  carried  around  his  neck  and 
fastening  one  end  of  it  to  the  balcony,  rapidly  descended, 
after  telling  me  to  haul  up  the  other  end  again,  attach  to 
it  the  bags  (three  or  four  at  a  time),  and  lower  them  to 
him,  when  he  would  drop  them  singly  into  the  well. 

We  had  nearly  finished  this  part  of  our  task,  when, 
rendered  reckless  by  the  apparent  security  with  which 
it  was  continued — the  splashing  of  each  bag  into  the  well 
exciting  no  suspicion  on  the  part  of  our  dangerous  neigh- 
bors at  the  other  extremity  of  the  dwelling — H flung 

down  into  its  depths  the  last  nine,  three  at  once,  instead 
of  dropping  them  singly,  as  he  had  hitherto  done.  At 
this  moment,  the  close  proximity  of  approaching  footsteps 
along  the  roof  made  me  turn  in  the  direction  whence 
the  sound  they  caused  proceeded,  and  instantly  I  was 
engaged  in  a  deadly  struggle  with  an  antagonist. 

The  scene  now  became  one  of  the  wildest  confusion. 
The  rush  of  hostile  feet  along  the  roof  bespoke  the  rapid 
advance  of  foes,  whose  numbers  it  would  be  madness  to 
contend  with.  Beneath,  a  desperate  encounter  was  going 
on  between  my  comrade  and  one  or  more  of  the  rebels, 
as  many  a  fierce  oath  testified.  My  left  hand  was  firmly 
fastened  on  the  throat  of  the  man  with  whom  I  was  con- 
tending, yet  he  clung  to  me  with  maddening  tenacity. 
Reflection  and  action  were  the  twinborn  of  an  urgent 
second.  With  my  right  hand  I  had  managed  to  draw 
and  cock  my  revolver.  My  life  and  liberty  were  in  the 
hands  of  a  grasping  foe.  There  was  no  compromise 
here;  my  life  or  his!  Pressing  the  muzzle  of  my  pistol 
to  his  head,  I  fired,  and  he  fell  with  scattered  brains  at 
my  feet.     The  next  instant  I  dropped  from  the  balcony 


A  NTGHT  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  POTOMAC.  265 

to  the  ground  where  H was  battling  in  close  quarters 

Here  I  stumbled  over  a  fallen  man.  In  the  act  of  re- 
gaining mj  feet,  my  hand  came  in  contact  with  his  breast 
or  side,  and  was  instantly  bathed  in  a  warm  gush  of 
streaming  blood. 

"  Where  are  you,  H ?"  I  shouted. 

"Here." 

The  response  came  from  within  a  yard  or  two  of  the 
spot  where  I  stood.  I  found  my  companion  struggling 
on  the  ground,  in  savage  fury,  with  a  fellow  evidently 
of  much  superior  muscular  power  to  himself.  Quick  as 
thought  my  strength  was  united  to  his,  and  Avith  one 
concentrated,  determined,  and  desperate  effort  we  flung 
our  herculean  foe  headlong  down  the  well. 

Without  waiting  to  draw  breath,  we  started  and  fled 
for  life,  baffling  a  host  of  enemies  by  the  suddenness  of 
our  plunge  amidst  the  thick  surrounding  darkness. 

"This  way,"  cried  H ,  and  keeping  close  together 

we  quickly  reached  our  concealed  wagon.  To  spring 
inside  was  the  work  of  a  second,  and  away  we  went  for 
the  camp.  The  Zouave  drove,  and  his  driving  was  like 
the  driving  of  Jehu ! 

"  I  guess  it  would  have  been  all  up  with  me,"  he  said 
at  length,  "  if  you  hadn't  come  in  as  you  did.  There 
were  two  of  them  on  me  before  I  knew  where  I  was, 
when  I  found  I'd  lost  my  Colt ;  so  I  gave  one  a  dig  with 
the  full  length  of  my  bowie,  and  then  went  in  for  a  good 
wrestle  with  the  fellow  we  treated  to  a  drink." 

We  reached  camp  unpursued.  The  wagon  was  re- 
turned punctually  next  night,  as  promised,  to  the  as- 
tonished and  grateful  darkey,  but  whether  or  not  he 
received  any  further  remuneration  for  the  loan  of  his 
property  than  the  safe  return  of  it  I  am  unable  to  state- 


266  THE  TENNESSEE  BLACKSMITH. 


THE  TENNESSEE  BLACKSMITH. 

Near  the  cross-roads,  not  far  from  the  Cumberland 
Mountains,  stood  the  village  forge.  The  smith  vras  a 
sturdy  man  of  fifty.  He  was  respected,  wherever  known, 
for  his  stern  integrit3^  He  served  God,  and  did  not  fear 
man — and  it  might  be  safely  added,  nor  devil  either. 
His  courage  was  proverbial  in  the  neighborhood ;  and  it 
was  a  common  remark  when  wishing  to  pay  any  person 
a  high  compliment,  to  say,  "  He  is  as  brave  as  Okl  Brad- 
ley." One  night,  towards  the  close  of  September,  as  he 
stood  alone  by  the  anvil  plying  his  labors,  his  counte- 
nance evinced  a  peculiar  satisfiaction  as  he  brought  his 
hammer  down  with  a  vigorous  stroke  on  the  heated  iron. 
While  blowing  the  bellows  he  would  occasionally  pause 
and  shake  his  head,  as  if  communing  with  himself.  He 
was  evidently  meditating  upon  something  of  a  serious 
nature.  It  was  during  one  of  these  pauses  that  the  door 
was  thrown  open,  and  a  pale,  trembling  figure  staggered 
into  the  shop,  and,  sinking  at  the  smith's  feet,  faintly 
ejaculated — 

"  In  the  name  of  Jesus,  protect  me  !" 

As  Bradley  stooped  to  raise  the  prostrate  form,  three 
men  entered,  the  foremost  one  exclaiming — 

"  We've  treed  him  at  last!  There  he  is!  Seize  him!" 
and  as  he  spoke  he  pointed  at  the  crouching  figure. 

The  others  advanced  to  obey  the  order,  but  Bradley 
suddenly  arose,  seized  his  sledge-hammer,  and  brandish- 
ing it  about  his  head  as  if  it  were  a  sword,  exclaimed — 

"  Back  !  Touch  him  not ;  or,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I'll 
brain  ye  !" 

They  hesitated,  and  stepped  backward,  not  wishing  to 
encounter  the  sturdy  smith,  for  his  countenance  plainly 
told  them  that  he  meant  what  he  said. 

"Do  you  give  shelter  to  an  abolitionist?"  fiercely 
shouted  the  leader. 


THE  TENNESSEE  BLACKSMITH.  2G7 

"  I  give  shelter  to  a  weak,  defenceless  man,"  replied 
the  smith. 

"  He  is  an  enemy !"  vociferated  the  leader. 

"  Of  the  devil !"  ejaculated  Bradley. 

"  He  is  a  spy !  an  abolition  hound !"  exclaimed  the 
leader,  with  increased  vehemence ;  "  and  we  must  have 
him.  So  I  tell  you,  Bradley,  you  had  better  not  inter- 
fere. You  know  that  you  are  already  suspected,  and  if 
you  insist  upon  sheltering  him  it  will  confirm  it." 

"  Sus-2)ect-ed !  Suspected  of  what?"  exclaimed  the 
smith,  in  a  firm  tone,  riveting  his  gaze  upon  the  speaker. 

"  Why,  of  adhering  to  the  North,"  was  the  reply. 

"Adhering  to  the  North !"  ejaculated  Bradley,  as  he 
cast  his  defiant  glances  at  the  speaker.  "  I  adhere  to  no 
North,"  he  continued;  "I  adhere  to  my  country— my 
whole  country — and  will,  so  help  me  God  !  as  long  as  I 
have  breath  !"  he  added,  as  he  brought  the  sledge-hammer 
to  the  ground  with  great  force. 

"  You  ha<l  better  let  us  liave  him,  Bradley,  without 
further  trouble.  You  are  only  risking  your  own  neck 
by  your  interference." 

"Not  as  long  as  I  have  life  to  defend  him,"  was  the 
answer.  Then  pointing  toward  the  door,  he  continued, 
"  Leave  my  shop !"  and  as  he  spoke  he  again  raised  the 
sledge-hammer. 

They  hesitated  a  moment,  but  the  firm  demeanor  of 
the  smith  awed  them  into  compliance  with  the  order. 

"  You'll  regret  this  in  the  morning,  Bradley,"  said  the 
leader,  as  he  retreated. 

"  Go !"  was  the  reply  of  the  smith,  as  he  pointed  toward 
the  door. 

Bradley  followed  them  menacingly  to  the  entrance  of 
the  shop,  and  watched  them  until  they  disappeared  from 
sight  down  the  road.  When  he  turned  to  go  back  in 
the  shop  he  was  met  by  the  fugitive,  who,  grasping  his 
hand,  exclaimed — 


2G8  THE  TENNESSEE  BLACKSMITH. 

"  Oil !  how  shall  I  ever  be  able  to  thank  yon,  Mr. 
Bradley?" 

"  This  is  no  time  for  thanks,  Mr.  Peters,  unless  it  is  to 
the  Lord ;  you  must  fly  the  country,  and  that  at  once." 

"But  my  wife  and  children?" 

"  Mattie  and  I  will  attend  to  them.  But  you  must  go 
to-night." 

"  To-night  ?" 

"  Yes.  In  the  morning,  if  not  sooner,  they  will  return 
with  a  large  force  and  carry  you  off,  and  probably  hang 
you  on  the  first  tree.     You  must  leave  to-night." 

"But  how?" 

"Mattie  will  conduct  you  to  the  rendezvous  of  our 
friends.  There  is  a  party  made  up  who  intend  to  cross 
the  mountains  and  join  the  Union  forces  in  Kentucky. 
They  were  to  start  to-night.  They  have  provisions  for 
the  journey,  and  will  gladly  share  with  you." 

At  this  moment  a  young  girl  entered  the  shop,  and 
hurriedly  said — 

"  Father,  what  is  the  trouble  to-night  ?"  Her  eye  rest- 
ing upon  the  fugitive,  she  approached  him,  and  in  a 
sympathizing  tone  continued,  "  Ah,  Mr.  Peters,  has  your 
turn  come  so  soon  ?" 

This  was  Mattie.  She  was  a  fine  rosy  girl,  just  passed 
her  eighteenth  birthday,  and  the  sole  daughter  of  Brad- 
ley's house  and  heart.  She  was  his  all — his  wife  had  been 
dead  five  years.  He  turned  toward  her,  and  in  a  mild 
but  firm  tone  said — 

"  Mattie,  you  must  conduct  Mr.  Peters  to  the  rendez- 
vous immediately ;  then  return,  and  we  will  call  at  the 
parsonage  to  cheer  his  family.  Quick !  No  time  is  to  be 
lost.  The  bloodhounds  are  upon  the  track.  They  have 
scented  their  prey,  and  will  not  rest  until  they  have  se- 
cured him.  They  may  return  much  sooner  than  we  ex- 
pect.    So  haste,  daughter,  and  God  bless  ye !" 

This  was  not  the  first  time  that  ISIattie  had  been  called 
upon  to  perform  such  an  office.     She  had  safely  conducted 


THE  TENNESSEE  BLACKSMITH.  269 

several  Union  men,  who  had  been  hunted  from  their 
homes,  and  sought  shelter  with  her  father,  to  the  place 
designated,  from  whence  they  made  their  escape  across 
the  mountains  into  Kentucky.  Turning  to  the  fugitive, 
she  said — ■ 

"  Come,  Mr.  Peters,  do  not  stand  upon  ceremony,  but 
follow  me," 

She  left  the  shop,  and  proceeded  but  a  short  distance 
up  the  road,  and  then  turned  oft"  in  a  by-path  through  a 
strip  of  woods,  closely  followed  by  the  fugitive.  A  brisk 
walk  of  half  an  hour  brought  them  to  a  small  house  that 
stood  alone  in  a  secluded  spot.  Here  Mattie  was  received 
with  a  warm  welcome  by  several  men,  some  of  whom 
were  engaged  in  running  bullets,  while  others  were  clean- 
ing their  rifles  and  fowling-pieces.  The  lady  of  the  house, 
a  hale  woman  of  forty,  was  busy  stuffing  the  wallets  of 
the  men  with  biscuits.  She  greeted  Mattie  very  kindly. 
The  fugitive,  who  was  known  to  two  or  three  of  the  party, 
was  received  in  a  bluff",  frank  spirit  of  kindness  by  all, 
saying  that  they  would  make  him  chaplain  of  the  Ten- 
nessee Union  regiment,  when  they  got  to  Kentucky. 

When  Mattie  was  about  to  return  home,  two  of  the 
party  prepared  to  accompany  her ;  but  she  protested, 
warning  them  of  the  danger,  as  the  enemy  were  doubtless 
abroad  in  search  of  the  minister.  But,  notwithstanding, 
they  insisted,  and  accompanied  her,  until  she  reached  the 
road,  a  short  distance  above  her  father's  shop.  Mattie 
hurried  on,  but  was  somewhat  surprised  on  reaching  the 
shop  to  find  it  vacant.  She  hastened  into  the  house,  but 
her  father  was  not  there.  As  she  returned  to  go  into  the 
shop,  she  thought  she  could  hear  the  noise  of  horses'  hoofs 
clattering  down  the  road.  She  listened,  but  the  sound 
soon  died  away.  Going  into  the  shop  she  blew  the  fire 
into  a  blaze ;  then  beheld  that  the  things  were  in  great 
confusion,  and  that  spots  of  blood  were  upon  the  ground.. 
She  was  now  convinced  that  her  father  had  been  seized 


270  THE  TENNESSEE  BLACKSMITH- 

and  carried  oflf,  but  not  without  a  desperate  struggle  on 
his  part. 

As  Mattie  stood  gazing  at  the  pools  of  blood,  a  wagon 
containing  two  persons  drove  up,  one  of  whom,  an  athletic 
young  man  of  five-and-twenty  years,  got  out  and  entered 
the  shop. 

"  Good-evening,  Mattie  I  "Where  is  your  father  ?"  he 
said.  Then  observing  the  strange  demeanor  of  the  girl, 
he  continued,  "  Why,  Mattie,  what  ails  you?  What  has 
happened  ?" 

The  young  girl's  heart  was  too  full  for  her  tongue  to 
give  utterance,  and  throwing  herself  upon  the  shoulder 
of  the  young  man,  she  sobbingly  exclaimed — 

"  They  have  carried  him  off!    Don't  you  see  the  blood  ?" 

"  Have  they  dared  to  lay  hands  upon  your  father  ?  The 
infernal  wretches !" 

Mattie  recovered  herself  sufficiently  to  narrate  the 
events  of  the  evening.  When  she  had  finished,  he  ex- 
claimed— 

"  Oh,  that  I  should  have  lived  to  see  the  day  that  old 
Tennessee  was  to  be  thus  disgraced  !     Here,  Joe !" 

At  this,  the  other  person  in  the  wagon  alighted  and 
entered  the  shop.     He  was  a  stalwart  negro. 

"  Joe,"  continued  the  young  man,  "  you  would  like  your 
freedom  ?" 

"  Well,  Massa  John,  I  wouldn't  like  much  to  leave  you, 
but  den  I'se  like  to  be  a  free  man." 

"Joe,  the  white  race  have  maintained  their  liberty  by 
their  valor.  Are  you  willing  to  fight  for  yours  ?  Ay ! 
fight  to  the  death  ?" 

"  I'se  fight  for  yous  any  time.  Massa  John," 

'*  I  believe  you,  Joe.  But  I  have  desperate  work  on 
hand  to-night,  and  I  do  not  want  you  to  engage  in  it 
without  a  prospect  of  reward.  If  I  succeed,  I  will  make 
you  a  free  man.  It  is  a  matter  of  life  and  death — will 
you  go?" 

"  I  will,  Massa." 


THE  TENNESSEE  BLACKSMITH.  271 

"Then  kneel  down,  and  swear  before  the  everliving 
God,  that,  if  you  falter  or  shrink  the  danger,  you  may 
hereafter  be  consigned  to  everlasting  fire !" 

"I  swear,  Massa,"  said  the  negro,  kneeling,  "An'  I 
hope  that  Gor  Almighty  may  strike  me  dead  if  I  don't 
go  wid  you  through  fire  and  water,  and  ebery  ting!" 

"  I  am  satisfied,  Joe,"  said  his  master ;  then  turning  to 
the  young  girl,  who  had  been  a  mute  spectator  of  this 
singular  scene,  he  continued:  "Now,  Mattie,  you  get  in 
the  wagon  and  I'll  drive  down  to  the  parsonage,  and  you 
remain  there  with  Mrs.  Peters  and  the  children  until  I 
bring  you  some  intelligence  of  your  father." 

While  the  sturdy  old  blacksmith  was  awaiting  the 
return  of  his  daughter,  the  party  that  he  had  repulsed 
returned  with  increased  numbers  and  demanded  the  min- 
ister. A  fierce  quarrel  ensued,  which  resulted  in  their 
seizing  the  smith  and  carrying  him  off.  They  conveyed 
him  to  a  tavern  half  a  mile  distant  from  the  shop,  and 
there  he  was  arraigned  before  what  was  termed  a  vigi- 
lance committee.  The  committee  met  in  a  long  room  on 
the  ground-floor,  dimly  lighted  by  a  lamp  which  stood 
upon  a  small  table  in  front  of  the  chairman.  In  about 
half  an  hour  after  Bradley's  arrival  he  was  placed  before 
the  chairman  for  examination.  The  old  man's  arms  were 
pinioned,  but  nevertheless  he  cast  a  defiant  look  upon 
those  around  him, 

"Bradley,  this  is  a  grave  charge  against  you.  What 
have  you  to  say  ?"  said  the  chairman. 

"  What  authority  have  you  to  ask  ?"  demanded  the 
smith,  fiercely  eying  his  interrogator. 

"  The  authority  of  the  people  of  Tennessee,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  i  deny  it." 

"Your  denials  amount  to  nothing.  You  are  accused 
of  harboring  an  abolitionist,  and  the  penalty  of  that  act, 
you  know,  is  death.  What  have  you  to  say  to  the 
charge?" 


2T2  '  THE  TENNESSEE  BLACKSMITH. 

"1  say  that  it  is  a  lie,  and  that  lie  who  utters  such 
charges  against  me  is  a  scoundrel." 

"  Simpson,"  said  the  chairman  to  the  leader  of  the  band 
that  had  captured  Bradley,  and  who  now  appeared  with 
a  large  bandage  about  his  head,  to  bind  up  a  wound  which 
was  the  result  of  a  blow  from  the  fist  of  Bradley.  "  Simp- 
son," continued  the  chairman,  "  what  have  you  to  say  ?" 

The  leader  then  stated  that  he  had  tracked  the  preacher 
to  the  blacksmith  shop,  and  that  Bradley  had  resisted  his 
arrest,  and  that  upon  their  return  he  could  not  be  found, 
and  that  the  prisoner  refused  to  give  any  information 
concerning  him. 

"  Do  you  hear  that,  Mr.  Bradley  ?"  said  the  chairman. 

"  I  do.     What  of  it  ?"  was  the  reply. 

"Is  it  true?" 

"Yes." 

"  Where  is  the  preacher  ?" 

"That  is  none  of  j^our  business." 

"  Mr.  Bradley,  this  tribunal  is  not  to  be  insulted  with 
impunity.  I  again  demand  to  know  where  Mr.  Peters  is. 
Will  you  tell  ?"^ 

"No." 

"Mr.  Bradley,  it  is  well  known  that  3'ou  are  not  only 
a  member  but  an  exhorter  in  Mr.  Peters's  church,  and 
therefore  some  little  excuse  is  to  be  made  for  your  zeal 
in  defending  him.  He  is  from  the  North,  and  has  long 
been  suspected,  and  is  now  accused  of  being  an  abolition- 
ist and  a  dangerous  man.  You  do  not  deny  sheltering 
him,  and  refusing  to  give  him  up.  If  you  persist  in  this 
you  must  take  the  consequences.  I  ask  you  for  the  last 
time  if  you  will  inform  us  of  his  whereabouts  ?" 

"And  again  I  answer  no !" 

"  Mr.  Bradley,  there  is  also  another  serious  charge 
against  you,  and  your  conduct  in  this  instance  confirms  it. 
You  are  accused  of  giving  comfort  to  the  enemies  of  your 
country.     What  have  you  to  say  to  that  ?" 

"  I  say  it  is  false,  and  that  he  who  makes  it  is  a  villain." 


THE  TENNESSEE  BLACKSMITH.  2T3 

"I  accuse  him  with  being  a  traitor,  aiding  the  cause 
of  the  Union,"  said  Simpson. 

"If  my  adherence  to  the  Union  merits  for  me  the 
name  of  traitor,  then  I  am  proud  of  it.  1  have  been  for 
the  Union — I  am  still  for  the  Union — and  will  be  for  the 
Union  as  long  as  life  lasts." 

At  these  words  the  chairman  clutched  a  pistol  that  laj 
upon  the  table  before  him,  and  the  bright  blade  of  Simp- 
son's bowie-knife  glittered  near  Bradley's  breast;  but 
before  he  could  make  the  fatal  plunge  a  swift-winged 
messenger  of  death  laid  him  dead  at  the  feet  of  his  in- 
tended victim;  while  at  the  same  instant  another  plunged 
into  the  heart  of  the  chairman,  and  he  fell  forward  over 
the  table,  extinguishing  the  lights  and  leaving  all  in 
darkness.  Confusion  reigned.  The  inmates  of  the  room 
were  panic-stricken.  In  the  midst  of  the  consternation  a 
firm  hand  rested  upon  Bradley's  shoulder ;  his  bonds  were 
severed,  and  he  hurried  out  of  the  open  window.  He 
was  again  a  free  man,  but  was  hastened  forward  into  the 
woods  at  the  back  of  the  tavern,  and  through  them  to  a 
road  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  then  into  a  wagon  and 
driven  rapidly  off.  In  half  an  hour  the  smith  made  one 
of  the  party  at  the  rendezvous  that  was  to  start  at  mid- 
night across  the  mountains. 

"John,"  said  the  smith,  as  he  grasped  the  hand  of  his 
rescuer,  while  his  eyes  glistened  and  a  tear  coursed  down 
his  furrowed  cheek,  "  I  should  like  to  see  Mattie  before 
t  go." 

"You  shall,"  was  the  reply. 

In  another  hour  the  blacksmith  clasped  his  daughter 
to  liis  bosom. 

It  was  an  affecting  scene — there,  in  that  lone  house  in 
the  wilderness,  surrounded  by  men  who  had  been  driven 
from  their  homes  for  their  attachment  to  the  principles 
for  which  their  patriot  fathers  fought  and  bled — the  sturdy 
old  smith,  a  type  of  the  heroes  of  other  days,  pressing  his 
daughter  to  his  breast,  while  the  tears  coursed  down  hia 
18 


2T4  A  CONFLICT  WITH  DESPERADOES. 

furrowed  cheek.  He  felt  that  perhaps  it  was  to  be  his 
last  embrace;  for  his  resolute  heart  had  resolved  to  sac- 
rifice his  all  upon  the  altar  of  his  country,  and  he  could 
no  longer  watch  over  the  safety  of  his  only  child.  Was 
she  to  be  left  to  the  mercy  of  the  parricidal  wretches 
who  were  attempting  to  destroy  the  country  that  had 
given  them  birth,  nursed  their  infancy,  and  opened  a 
wide  field  for  them  to  display  the  abilities  with  which 
nature  had  endowed  them? 

•'  Mr.  Bradley,"  said  his  rescuer,  after  a  short  pause,  "  as 
you  leave  the  State  it  will  be  necessary,  in  these  trou- 
blous times,  for  Mattie  to  have  a  protector,  and  I  have 
thought  that  our  marriage  had  better  take  place  to- 
niglit." 

"  \Yell,  John,"  he  said,  as  he  relinquished  his  embrace 
and  gazed  with  a  fond  look  at  her  who  was  so  dear  to 
him,  "  I  shall  not  object,  if  Mattie  is  willing." 

"  Oh !  we  arranged  that  as  we  came  along,"  replied  the 
young  man. 

flattie  blushed,  but  said  nothing. 

In  a  short  time  the  hunted-down  minister  was  called 
upon  to  perform  a  marriage  service  in  that  lone  house. 
It  was  an  impressive  scene.  Yet  no  diamonds  glittered 
upon  the  neck  of  the  bride ;  no  pearls  looped  up  her 
tresses ;  but  a  pure  love  glowed  witliin  her  heart  as  she 
gave  utterance  to  a  vow  which  was  registered  in  heaven. 

Bradley,  soon  after  the  ceremony,  bade  his  daughter 
and  her  husband  an  affectionate  farewell,  and  set  out  Avith 
his  friends  to  join  others  who  had  been  driven  from  their 
homes,  and  were  now  rallying  under  the  old  flag  to  fight 
for  the  Union,  and,  as  they  said,  "  Eedeem  old  Tennes- 
see 1" 

A  CONPnOT  ¥ITK  DESPEEADOES. 

The  latent  loyalty  of  Northwestern  Arkansas  having 
begun  to  manifest  itself  in  the  latter  part  of  January,  1863; 


A  CONFLICT  WITH  DESPERADOES.  2T5. 

but  still  requiring  the  support  of  the  military  arm,  Cap- 
tain Galloway,  with  a  sufficient  force,  was  present  at 
Huntsville  on  the  31st,  for  which  day  a  public  meeting 
had  been  called.  He  left  Fayetteville  also  for  another 
purpose.  It  had  been  ascertained  where  the  notorious 
Peter  Mankins,  with  a  band  of  desperadoes,  were  secreting 
themselves  in  the  Southeastern  corner  of  Crawford 
Count}^,  and  it  was  determined  upon,  "to  break  up  the 
nest."  This  was  a  part  of  Captain  Galloway's  duty,  in 
the  discharge  of  which  he  was  to  receive  co-operation 
from  Captain  Kobert  E.  Travis,  of  the  same  regiment, 
who  had  magnanimously  offered  to  go  as  a  spy  into  the 
dangerous  cane. 

Born  in  or  near  Indianapolis,  Ind.,  and  passing  his  entire 
life  in  the  West,  Captain  Travis,  at  the  breaking  out  of 
the  rebellion,  was  a  dealer  in  stock  in  Northern  Missouri. 
For  a  time,  emploved  as  a  spy  for  the  original  army  of 
the  Southwest,  he  afterwards  enlisted  as  a  private  in  a 
co:npany  of  the  first  Arkansas  cavalry.  Subsequently 
receiving  authority  to  raise  a  company,  he  did  so,  and  at 
the  time  of  which  we  speak  was  commanding  a  squadron. 
"We  well  remember  the  appearance  of  the  captain  in  our 
office  the  afternoon  of  his  departure.  Dropping  in  but 
for  a  moment,  he  pleasantly  drew  our  attention  to  his 
habit,  now  completely  that  of  a  backwoodsman.  Every 
garment  of  the  army  blue  had  disappeared,  and  we  could 
not  help  thinking  of  Joseph's  coat  of  many  colors.  No 
spy  was  ever  more  appropriately  clothed.  Suggesting 
that  he  be  very  cautious,  for  he  was  about  to  deal  with 
the  most  desperate  men  on  the  border,  and  wishing  him 
a  successful  enterprise  and  a  safe  return,  he  left  the 
room. 

We  now  quote  from  the  report  of  Captain  Galloway  to 
Colonel  Harrison,  commanding  the  post  at  Fayetteville. 

"  The  first  night  after  leaving  I  encamped  on  the 
Huntsville  road,  about  two  miles  from  that  place.  The 
next  day  I  reached  Huntsville  at  11  o'clock  A.  M.    There 


276  A  CONFLICT  WITH  DESPERADOES. 

being  no  rebels  in  force  in  the  vicinity  of  the  town,  I 
remained  there  until  the  morning  of  the  1st  inst.,  at  which 
time,  in  obedience  to  your  order,  received  at  Pluntsville,  I 
started  for  Williams'  farm.  A  little  while  after  dark,  of 
the  same  day,  I  reached  Allison  Hiirs  farm,  about  eigh- 
teen miles  distant  from  Ozark,  and  twenty-five  miles 
from  Williams'  farm,  to  which  I  intended  to  go.  There 
it  was  rumored  that  there  were  one  hundred  rebels  in 
Ozark,  and  three  steamers  above  the  place.  I  proceeded 
at  once  to  Ozark,  arriving  just  at  break  of  day.  I 
there  found  a  rebel  captain^  whom,  with  a  lieutenant  I 
had  captured  the  day  before,  I  paroled.  I  also  paroled 
four  rebel  privates.  I  remained  at  Ozark  until  1  o'clock 
P.  M.,  waiting  for  the  steamers,  but  they  did  not  come 
down,  and  I  started  for  Williams'  farm.  When  I  had  pro- 
ceeded seven  miles,  my  advance  drove  three  rebel  pickets, 
whom  I  supposed  to  be  patrols.  The  advance  soon  came 
in  contact  with  the  main  force  of  the  enemy,  who  charged, 
and  it  fell  back  to  the  main  column  of  my  forces, 
now  forming  in  an  advantageous  position.  The  enemy 
came  up  to  within  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  of  my 
line  and  opened,  when  the  contest  fairly  commenced. 
After  thirty  minutes'  severe  fighting  I  repulsed  him  with 
loss.  At  this  time  I  would  have  charged  had  I  not 
feared  an  ambuscade.  The  enemy  retreated  with  great 
precipitancy,  breaking  into  small  squads  as  they  retreated, 
which  scattered  to  the  right  and  left  of  the  road.  From 
the  most  reliable  information,  I  found  that  the  rebels 
numbered  one  hundred  and  eighty  men,  and  were  com- 
manded by  Colonel  Dorsey.  I  could  not  accurately 
ascertain  their  losses,  as  they  carried  off  their  dead  and 
wounded.     Ours  was  one  slightly  wounded. 

"  The  rebels  were  informed  of  our  presence,  in  the  vicin- 
ity, and  of  our  advance,  and  had  been  waiting  for  us  one  or 
two  hours.  From  here  I  started  to  Williams'  farm,  reach- 
ing it  about  dusk.  At  eight  o'clock  a  spy,  who  had  been 
co-operating  with  Captain  Travis,  came  into  camp,  and  at 


A  CONFLICT  WITH  DESPERADOES,  -277 

nine  the  captain  himself  arrived.  Tbej  had  learned  that 
Mankins'  band,  numbering  thirty  men,  was  immediately 
beyond  the  Arkansas  River,  and  his  (Captian  Travis')  plan 
was  to  proceed  at  once  to  the  river  with  his  whole  force, 
leaving  one-half  on  this  side  to  guard  the  horses,  and 
sending  the  other  half  over  the  river  to  capture  the 
guerrillas.  This  plan  I  considered  defective,  since  I  sup- 
posed that  the  rebels  with  whom  we  had  the  fight  would 
probably  return  reinforced  to  their  encampment,  two 
miles  from  us,  and  not  more  than  two  from  the  ferry 
where  we  would  have  to  cross  the  river.  Moreover,  my 
men  were  very  tired,  as  also  the  horses,  having  had  no 
rest  since  we  had  left  Huntsville.  My  design  was  to  attack 
the  rebel  camp  in  the  morning,  if  they  were  not  too 
strongly  posted,  but  finding  by  one  o'clock  at  night  that 
the  rebels  had  not  returned  to  their  encampment,  and 
still  considering  it  imprudent  to  move  part  of  my  forces 
across  the  river,  I  determined  to  start  for  Fayetteville  in 
the  morning. 

"  Captain  Travis  insisted  on  taking  the  men  into  the 
cane-brake  for  the  purpose  of  capturing  five  or  six  of  the 
enemy,  who,  he  said,  were  to  meet  there  to  organize  a  band. 
He  wanted  no  more  than  ten.  I  considered  his  proposed 
expedition  nothing  more  than  a  small  scout,  and  believ- 
ing that  there  was  no  rebel  force  in  the  vicinity,  granted 
his  request.  He  was  to  rejoin  me  five  or  six  miles  from 
Williams'  farm,  and  about  the  same  distance  from  where 
he  was  going.  He  insisted,  on  starting  out,  that  if  he 
did  not  meet  me  there,  I  should  go  on.  and  he  would 
overtake  me.  A  little  before  daybreak  I  started  for 
Fayetteville,  and  having  marched  about  twenty  miles, 
halted  and  fed.  Some  of  the  party  now  came  up  and 
gave  information  that  Captain  Travis  and  four  of  his  men 
were  killed  or  mortally  wounded. 

"The  facts,  as  I  gathered  them  from  the  men  who  es- 
caped, were  these :  Captain  Travis  leaving  us  in  camp, 
proceeded  at  once  to  the  cane-brake,  two  and  a  half  miles 


278  A  CONFLICT  WITH  DESPERAD0E8. 

distant,  rinding  some  indications  of  an  enemy  in  the 
vicinity,  he  marched  until  break  of  day,  wlicn  he  dis- 
mounted his  men,  hitched  his  horses,  and  began  to  search 
for  them.  He  came  to  their  camp,  which  was  about  one 
hundred  rods  from  where  he  alighted,  and  found  thirty 
horses  tied  to  the  bushes.  Leaving  one  man  to  guard 
them,  he  proceeded  with  seven  others  to  attack  the  rebels 
in  their  fortifications,  whom  he  knew,  from  their  horses, 
to  number  about  thirty.  When  a  hundred  yards  from 
the  fort,  a  sentinel  descried  them,  and  gave  the  alarm. 
The  rebels  sprang  to  their  ritles,  and  commenced  firing 
on  our  men,  who,  opening  fire  in  return,  continued  to 
advance  until  within  thirty  yards  of  the  fort.  At  this 
time,  when  three  or  four  of  our  men  had  fallen,  the  captain 
ordered  a  retreat,  and  while  himself  in  the  act  of  turning, 
received  a  mortal  wound.  His  remaining  men  moved 
him  about  one  hundred  rods  distant,  where,  after  staying 
with  him  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  they  left  him  apparently 
dying.  They  ov.3rtook  me  at  noon  the  next  day.  When 
informed  of  this  disaster,  I  would  have  returned  at  once, 
and  recovered  the  wounded  if  still  living,  and  interred 
the  dead,  but  owing  to  the  fatigued  state  of  my  men  and 
horses,  I  deemed  it  best  to  move  on  to  Fayetteville. 
Intrusting  the  disposal  of  the  dead  and  wounded  to  a 
citizen,  and  pledging  him  to  attend  to  them,  I  moved 
on." 

Poor  Travis !  he  fell  a  victim  to  his  own  rash  bravery, 
yet  all  honor  to  the  man  who  could  divest  himself  of  his 
command,  and  so  cheerfully  volunteer  to  ferret  out  and 
rid  that  section  of  country  of  its  most  dangerous  en- 
emies. If  he  could  not  succeed,  he  could  fight,  and  he 
paid  the  penalty  of  his  daring  with  his  life.  A  few  days 
later,  an  avenging  expedition  softened  the  remembrance 
of  this  disaster,  by  converting  the  block-house  in  the 
canebreak  into  a  mass  of  ruins,  and  driving  its  hated 
defenders  ig-nominiously  across  the  Arkansas  River. 


STEALING  A  MARCH.  279 


STEALING  A  MARCH. 

Stretched  at  full  length  before  the  most  magnificent  of 
all  the  fires,  with  a  pleasant  sense  of  warmth  diffusing  it- 
self from  the  soles  of  the  feet  along  the  whole  person,  a 
party  of  us  lay  with  a  lazy  enjoyment  of  the  heat,  and  a 
feeling  of  satisfaction  with  our  supper.  Each  was  draw- 
ing upon  his  pipe,  and  exhaling  a  cloud  of  fragrant  smoke, 
except  the  chief  proprietor  of  the  establishment,  the 
lieutenant-colonel  of  the  regiment.  I  do  not  think  that 
there  can  be  found  a  pleasanter  fellow  for  a  companion 
during  the  long  evening  lounge  around  a  camp-fire  than 

B .     Though  never  out  of  the  United  States,  he  has 

been,  Hibernianly  speaking,  a  great  deal  in  them,  and 
has  anecdotes  associated  with  almost  every  place  which 
becomes  prominent  in  connection  with  the  present  war. 
But  what  I  enjoy  the  most  is  to  set  him  talking  about 
some  of  liis  adventures  since  he  has  been  with  us,  and 
extract  all  those  details  which  are  not  obtainable  in  a 
second-hand  report.  As  he  seems  to  enjoy  the  revival 
in  his  memor}'-  of  these  former  scenes  as  much  as  we  do, 
to  whom  they  are  fresh,  it  is  no  difficult  task  to  start  him 
on  a  narration. 

The  talk  began  by  some  remark  upon  the  character  of 
the  country  around  us,  which  our  regiment  had  scouted 
in  the  spring  preceding.  There  was  a  little  difference  of 
opinion  about  the  bend  in  the  river,  and  whether  our 

picket  line  there  might  not  be  improved.    Captain  G 

thought  that  it  might,  and  appealed  to  the  colonel.  "I 
think  not,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  had  to  study  the  shore 
there  pretty  closely  last  spring  to  find  a  place  where  I 
could  cross,  and  the  pickets  now  cover,  as  far  as  possible, 
every  practicable  ferry.  Unless  we  had  more  men,  I 
could  not  suggest  any  improvement." 

"Why,"  said  L ,  "what  were  you  looking  for  a 

crossing  here  for  ?     W never  meant  to  take  Rich- 


280  STEALING  A  MARCH. 

mond  on  his  own  hook,  just  as  he  "went  at  Jackson's  army 
afterward  at  Harrisonburg,  did  he?" 

"No;  this  was  a  httle  affair  of  my  own,  when  we 
bagged  a  party  of  rebel  couriers  and  brought  in  some 
horses — among  others  that  nice  pair  of  Bailey  Peyton 
mares  that  I  had  last  summer." 

"  I  remember  hearing  something  about  that  when  I 
rejoined  near  Seddon's;  bat  we  were  all  off  on  de- 
tached service  just  then,  and  I  never  heard  the  particu- 
lars of  the  affair,  nor  knew  where  it  took  place.  How 
did  you  manage  to  get  to  them  without  their  taking 
wing?" 

"It  is  rather  a  long  story  for  a  man  to  tell  about  him- 
self," responded  B . 

"  No  matter,"  I  put  in ;  "  we  are  all  smokers,  and  will 
be  very  grateful  if  you  will  take  our  share  of  the  talk 
out  of  our  mouths.  So  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  we 
will  take  the  story,  as  an  artist  might  now  take  you,  at 
full  length." 

The  colonel  stretched  himself  into  a  comfortable  posi- 
tion and  began : — 

"  You  all  know  how  the  contrabands  began  to  flock  in 
to  us  as  soon  as  we  came  down  from  Falmouth  to  Port 
Conway.  It  was  a  sort  of  second  Exodus,  slightly  dif- 
fering from  the  first,  especially  as  to  color  and  smell. 
They  managed  to  get  to  us,  not  only  from  down  the  neck, 
but  also  from  across  the  river — one  party  bringing  in 
valuable  horses,  and  the  others  tolerably  good  informa- 
tion. So  we  welcomed  them,  all,  and  sent  them  on  toward 
the  North  Pole  rejoicing.     One  of  the  fellows  from  the 

other  side,  Humphrey,  who  was  with  Colonel  W for 

some  time  afterward,  seemed  to  have  come  oft'  rather 
against  his  will.  I  got  into  a  talk  with  him,  and  found 
out  that  his  master  lived  about  ten  or  twelve  miles  back 
from  the  river.  He  might  have  been  staying  there  to 
this  time,  perhaps,  if  the  neighbors  had  not  taken  the 
alarm  at  losing  so  many  of  their  servants.     They  had  ar« 


STEALING  A  MARCH.  281 

ranged  with  the  rebel  general,  therefore,  to  assemble 
themselves  and  bring  all  their  slaves  to  a  certain  place, 
where  a  small  cavalry  post  had  been  established.  The 
general  was  to  send  a  force  to  guard  them  until  they  got 
within  his  lines,  when  they  were  to  be  taken  to  work  on 
the  Richmond  fortifications,  or  else  sold  South.  This 
kind  of  plan  always  gets  wind  in  some  way,  and  many 
of  the  negroes  took  the  alarm.  Among  others,  Humphrey 
very  sensibly  concluded  that,  if  he  had  to  leave  home,  he 
would  prefer  himself  to  decide  the  direction  of  his  jour- 
ney ;  and  he  consequently  stole  off  by  night,  escaping 
across  the  river  to  us.  oSTow  his  casual  allusion  to  this 
post  stuck  fast  in  my  mind,  and  I  managed  to  make  him 
describe  it  to  me.  From  what  he  said  I  judged  that  it 
did  not  connect  with  any  others  in  the  neighborhood,  but 
was  there  merely  for  purposes  of  observation.  So  it  was 
just  possible  that  I  might  steal  upon  them,  catch  most  of 
them,  and  be  back  before  there  could  be  time  for  a  force 
to  come  down  upon  us  in  turn. 

"  I  began  to  hunger  after  the  capture,  and  asked  Hum- 
phrey whether  he  could  guide  a  party  through  the 
country  at  night  to  the  house  where  they  stayed.  The 
darkey's  face  lit  up  with  unexpected  intelligence  and 
animation  at  the  question  ;  and  when  he  declared  not  only 
his  ability  but  his  willingness  to  do  so,  I  felt  that  I  could 
rely  on  him.  I  went  straight  up  to  the  house  and  spoke 
to  the  colonel.  It  was  when  head-quarters  were  at  Pow- 
hatan Hill.    I  believe  that  W was  sorry  that  he  was 

not  a  captain  instead  of  regimental  commander.  If  he  had 
been  he  would  certainly  have  tried  to  take  the  affair  out 
of  my  hands.  As  it  was,  he  gave  me  plenty  of  counsel 
and  warning,  but  consented  to  my  taking  a  party  of 
volunteers  and  crossing  the  river  that  night.  It  rained 
hard  enough  at  nightfall  to  quell  the  courage  of  a  good 
many  of  those  who  were  willing  enough  in  the  afternoon ; 
and  I  thought  it  darker  than  it  had  ever  seemed  before 
&3  our  little  party  stole  quietly  our  of  camp  before  tattoo^ 


282  STEALING  A  MARCH. 

and  felt  our  way  down  to  tlie  river.  In  a  leaky  boat, 
two  at  a  time,  we  managed  to  cross,  the  noise  of  the  skiff 
in  the  water  sounding  to  our  ears  all  the  time  as  if  it 
must  be  audible  at  least  five  miles ;  and  just  as  tajxs  blew, 
dismissing  the  rest  of  the  regiment  to  bed,  we  started  to 
leave  it,  perhaps  forever.  We  had,  of  course,  left  spurs 
and  sabres  behind  on  such  an  expedition ;  but  all  of  my 
men  had  their  revolvers  and  carbines. 

"  We  were  seventeen  whites,  and  had  three  negroes  as 
guides.  Humphrey  led  the  advance,  I  following  im- 
mediately, and  only  keeping  him  in  sight  from  his  wear- 
ing a  light-colored  linsey  coat.  How  it  happened  that 
some  of  the  men  did  not  get  lost  in  the  darkness  I  can- 
not understand ;  for  I  did  not  hear  a  whisper  sometimes 
for  miles  together,  an.d  only  rarely  the  splash  of  a  foot- 
fall in  a  puddle,  indicating  that  the  boys  were  keeping 
closely  in  my  rear.  I  believe  that,  with  their  present 
recklessness,  some  of  them  would  have  straggled ;  but 
danger  was  then  new  to  them,  and  they  were  nervously 
alive  to  every  risk.  As  we  were  plodding  along  through 
heavy  fields,  over  plantation-roads,  and  across  by-paths, 
feeling  very  anxiously  and  to  a  slight  degree  scared — at 
least  I  did — the  party  whom  we  were  going  to  surprise 
was  much  more  agreeably  occupied.  They  were  all 
young  men  of  the  neighborhood,  who  had  gone  in  a  body 
from  a  local  cavalry  company  into  the  Confederate  ser- 
vice. So  they  were  rather  petted  and  made  much  of  by 
the  families  around,  especially  by  the  young  ladies. 

"The  sergeant  had  been  particularly  attracted  by  a 
daughter  of  Dr.  Golding,  the  gentleman  at  whose  place 
the  party  was  posted;  but  whether  that  was  the  cause  or 
the  effect  of  his  selecting  that  locality  I  am  unable  to  tell. 
The  afternoon  of  our  march  he  had  told  the  young  lady 
that  he  was  going  to  ride  down  and  take  a  look  at  the 
Yankees,  laughingly  making  her  commandant  of  the  post 
during  his  absence.  She  assumed  at  least  all  the  author- 
ity appropriate  to  the  dignity,  commanding  him  to  report 


BTEALINQ  A  MARCH.  283 

at  a  certain  hour,  or  suffer  the  pain  and  penalties  due  to 
disobedience.  The  delinquent  sergeant  was  half  an  hour 
behind  his  time.  After  enduring  a  severe  reprimand  he 
was  placed  in  arrest  and  close  confinement  within  the 
parlor,  and  sentenced  to  suffer  whist,  singing,  and  supper 
until  the  proper  authority  should  permit  his  release. 
Ilis  imprisonment  was  lightened,  however,  by  the  society 
of  the  lady  herself,  her  friends,  and  a  select  detail  from 
his  squad. 

"  In  spite  of  the  storm  without,  all  was  bright  and  gay 
within ;  and  a  good  many  small  jokes  were  made  about 
the  Yankees,  ten  miles  off  across  the  river.  At  last,  as 
the  hands  of  the  clock  drew  round  toward  twelve,  the 
merry  party  broke  up,  the  last  words  of  Miss  Goldiug 
being  a  jocular  warning  to  take  care  or  the  Yankees 
would  catch  them.  It  was  answered  by  a  defiant  laugh, 
and  the  sergeant  retired  with  his  men  to  their  quarters 
in  an  adjoining  office.  There  was  a  formal  watch  kept; 
but,  at  such  a  distance  from  the  enemy,  the  young  men 
had  grown  very  careless.  A  man  was  placed  on  a  hill  a 
little  distance  off,  another  outside  the  house  itself,  and 
their  horses  were  picketed  somewhere  within  their  reach. 
On  this  occasion  the  pleasure  of  the  evening  probably 
made  the  reliefs  oblivious  of  their  duty,  and  that  at  the 
very  critical  moment.  Certain  it  is  that  the  guard  out- 
side the  door  came  in  and  lay  down  without  any  one 
taking  his  place,  and  the  outpost,  after  staying  bej'ond 
his  hour,  came  in  to  see  why  he  was  not  relieved. 

"Now,  having  described  the  situation  of  the  enemy,  I 
ehall  go  back  to  the  history  of  my  own  party.  We  had 
left  camp  at  about  eight  o'clock,  and  hour  after  hour 
marched  slowly  on  under  the  guidance  of  the  negroes, 
unable  of  ourselves  to  tell  the  direction  in  which  we  were 
travelling.  We  became  more  and  more  cautious  and 
watchful  as  we  advanced,  though  we  had  not  heard  a 
sound  of  life  around  us.  Suddenly  the  guide  stopped, 
taking  a  crouching  attitude.     We  all  found  ourselves  in- 


284  STEALING  A  MARCH. 

voluntarily  doing  the  same,  though  I  suppose  each  was  half 
unconscious  that  his  neighbor  was  doing  so.  Presently 
I  could  hear  footsteps  advancing  along  the  path.  As 
we  did  not  wish  to  meet  any  one,  we  of  course  stole  aside 
as  noiselessly  as  possible,  and  yielded  the  right  of  way. 

"  There  were  about  half  a  dozen  persons  in  the  party,  but 
I  could  not  tell  whether  they  were  negroes  or  a  patrol. 
"Whoever  they  were  we  escaped  their  notice,  and  at  once 
resumed  our  course.  At  last  we  emerged  from  a  wooded 
hollow,  and  saw  the  vague  outline  of  a  building  in  a  little 
denser  black  than  the  sky  behind  it. 

" '  All  in  dar/  whispered  Humphrey,  pointing  to  a  par- 
ticular part  of  the  house. 

"  •■  Is  there  any  fence  or  hedge  between  here  and  there  ?' 
I  inquired,  '  or  is  the  track  clear?' 

"  •'  Eight  up  dar,  straight  up,  massa,'  he  responded,  so 
excited  that  I  believe  he  did  not  comprehend  the  ques- 
tion. 

"  '  Does  the  door  open  into  a  room  or  into  a  passage  ?' 
was  my  next  question. 

"'Right  in  dar,  massa;  you  jump  right  on  'em/  was 
his  answer,  and  he  kept  still  pointing  to  the  place. 

"  So  I  posted  my  men,  and  then  my  orderly  and  I  headed 
two  parties  in  a  rush  for  the  opposite  sides  of  the  build- 
ing. Just  as  I  got  to  the  top  of  my  speed  I  felt  a  violent 
blow  upon  my  chest  which  almost  staggered  me.  I  put 
out  my  hand  and  touched  a  picket  fence.  With  one  leap 
I  was  over  it,  and  at  the  door.  My  men  were  delayed 
by  trying  to  climb  the  fence  slowly.  Just  as  I  touched 
the  door  it  was  opened  from  within,  and  I  came  face  to 
face  with  a  gray  back.  Before  I  could  even  say  Surren- 
der !  he  had  sprung  back,  run  along  the  passage  and 
dashed  through  a  side  door.  For  a  moment  I  was  be- 
wildered by  finding  the  passage  where  I  expected  the 
room,  but  recovering  myself  I  followed  in  time  to  see 
lum  making  for  a  pile  of  arms. 

" '  Sarreiider  1'  shouted  I ;  and,  without  my  really  mean- 


BTEALING  A  MARCH.  285 

ing  it,  my  pistol  went  off.  He  spun  round,  saying,  '  You 
have  shot  me,  sir ;'  but  I  did  not  have  time  to  attend  to 
him,  for  all  around  the  room  were  his  comrades  lying 
down,  I  sprang  at  the  nearest,  had  my  knee  on  him,  my 
breast  on  another,  and  my  pistol  at  the  head  of  a  third 
at  the  same  instant.  Just  then  my  men  got  round  to  the 
window,  and  seeing  me  apparently  struggling  with  num- 
bers, let  fly  a  couple  of  shots.  Unfortunately  both  were 
fatal,  one  man  being  killed,  and  another  mortally  wounded. 
My  man  only  had  a  bullet  through  his  arm. 

"  Of  course  the  rebels  immediately  surrendered,  and  we 
found  that  the  party  consisted  of  seven.  The  wounded 
man  was  a  nephew  of  Dr.  Grolding,  and  had  been  one  of 
the  party  in  the  parlor.  I  immediately  sent  a  message 
to  Dr.  Golding  requesting  him  to  come  and  attend  upon 
his  wounded  nephew.  At  the  same  moment  a  series  of 
most  piercing  shrieks  rang  out  from  the  main  building, 
each  woman  doing  screaming  enough  for  six.  I  sent  a 
second  envoy  to  the  Doctor,  informing  him  that  if  ho  did 
not  come  at  once  I  should  have  to  bring  him,  together 
with  a  polite  request  for  the  cessation  of  that  very  loud 
and  disagreeable  noise. 

"  Both  messages  were  effectual.  We  had  the  arm  of 
the  slightly  wounded  prisoner  dressed  at  once ;  and 
while  some  of  my  men  found  and  saddled  the  hordes  of 
the  party,  the  rest  of  us  assisted  in  ministering  to  j^oung 
Broadus,  who,  as  a  short  inspection  proved,  was  dying. 
It  was  the  first  time  that  we  had  looked  upon  the  results 
of  our  work,  and  it  made  us  look  very  melancholy  to 
contemplate  the  agony  of  that  fine  young  fellow.  Some 
of  my  men  almost  cried.  But  we  did  not  have  time  to 
yield  to  any  sentiments  of  pity  or  sorrow.  We  were  ten 
miles  from  the  river,  with  an  active  enemy  not  so  very 
far  off.  So,  guarding  our  five  prisoners,  and  bringing 
off  their  five  horses,  we  started  on  our  return  along  the 
self-same  road.  We  moved,  though,  much  faster  on 
the  way  back,  the  cause  of  which  you  may  perhaps  c^ai' 


286  A  DARKEY  IN  THE  AIR. 

prehend ;  and  as  we  mounted  the  liill  commanding  the 
river,  we  heard  the  cheerful  notes  of  our  bugles  sounding 
out  reveille.  There  in  the  clear  dawn  we  could  catch 
sight  of  some  of  our  men  waiting  anxiously  bv  the  boat. 
It  soon  came  across  to  us,  and,  swimming  the  horses,  we 
made  our  way  into  camp,  feeling  very  proud  of  our  ex- 
pedition and  its  fruits." 


A  DAEKEY  IE  THE  AIE. 

Abraham,  a  full-blooded  negro,  and  the  only  person 
who  escaped  with  his  life  at  the  time  the  mine  under 
Fort  Hill  at  Yicksburg  exploded,  was  at  work  with  a 
number  of  the  rebel  soldiery  "sinking  a  shaft"  for  the 
purpose  of  discovering  any  gallery  that  might  have  been 
"  run  by  our  miners  "  beneath  their  works. 

The  negro  was  blown  a  distance  of  nearly  three  hun- 
dred. 3\ards,  and  was,  when  picked  up,  in  a  most  disturbed 
state  of  mind. 

"De  Lord,  massa" — quoth  he — "  tink  neber  should 
light — yah,  yah !  Went  up  'bout  free  mile.  Ax  a  white 
man  when  I  start  whar  wese  going,  and  de  next  I  know'd 
he  was  just  nowhere  but  all  over." 

An  artist  present  took  a  sketch  of  Abraham  while  the 
officers  gathered  around,  and  the  numerous  queries  put 
to  him  were  rather  wittily  responded  to. 

Finishing  the  sketch,  the  contraband  scrutinized  it  for 
a  moment,  then  broke  into  a  "Yah,  yah!  de  Lord,  dis 
chile  shore — Massa,  give  me  a  quarter?" 

One  of  General  jSI'Pherson's  staff,  Colonel  Coolbaugh, 
bestowed  a  silver  half  upon  the  delighted  African,  who 
made  tracks  for  the  negro  quarters  near  in  a  style  show- 
ing that  he  was  but  little  the  worse  for  his  aerial  voyage. 


THE  FOURTEENTH  AT  GETTYSBURG.  287 


THE  POUETEENTH  AT  GETTYSBUEG. 

"  Come,  Fred,  tell  me  all  about  that  glorious  right  which, 
you  know,  it  was  just  my  ill-luck  to  miss.  If  it  had  been 
such  another  whipping  as  we  had  at  Fredericksburg,  the 
Fates  would  probably  have  let  me  be  there.  I  have 
heard  several  accounts,  and  know  the  regiment  did  nobly; 
but  the  boys  all  get  so  excited  telling  about  it  that  I 
have  not  yet  a  clear  idea  of  the  fight." 

"  Here  goes,  then,''  said  the  adjutant,  lighting  a  fresh 
cigar.  "It  will  serve  to  pass  away  time,  which  hangs  so 
heavy  on  our  hands  in  this  dreary  hospital." 

"  We  were  not  engaged  on  the  first  day  of  the  fight, 
July  1,  1863,  but  were  on  the  march  for  Gettysburg  that 
day.  All  the  afternoon  we  heard  the  cannonading  grow- 
ing more  and  more  distinct  as  we  approached  the  town, 
and  as  we  came  on  the  field  at  night  learned  that  the 
First  and  Eleventh  corps  had  fought  hard,  suffered  much, 
and  been  driven  back  outside  the  town  with  the  loss  of 
Major-General  Reynolds,  who,  it  was  generally  said, 
brought  on  an  engagement  too  hastily  with  Lee's  whole 
army.     We  bivouacked  on  the  field  that  night. 

"  About  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning  we  moved  up 
to  the  front,  and  by  ten  o'clock  the  enemy's  shells  were 
falling  around  us.  Captain  Coit  had  a  narrow  escape 
here.  We  had  just  stacked  arms  and  were  resting,  when 
a  runaway  horse,  frightened  by  the  shelling,  came  full 
tilt  at  him  ;  'twas  '  heavy  cavalry  '  against '  light  infantry ;' 
but  Coit  had  presence  of  mind  enough  to  draw  his  sword, 
and  bringing  it  to  a  point  it  entered  the  animal's  belly 
The  shock  knocked  Coit  over,  and  he  was  picked  up 
senseless,  with  a  terribly  battered  face,  and  carried  to  the 
rear." 

"  By  the  way,  Fred,  is  it  not  singular  that  he  should 
have  recovered  so  quickly  and  completely  from  such  a 
severe  blow  ?" 


288  THE  FOUKTEENTH  AT  GETTYSBUR(J. 

"  Indeed  it  is.  He  is  as  handsome  as  ever ;  but  to  go 
on.  At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we  moved  up  to 
support  a  battery,  and  here  we  lay  all  night.  About 
dark  Captain  Broatch  went  out  with  the  pickets.  Though 
under  artillery  fire  all  day,  we  were  not  really  engaged, 
as  we  did  not  fire  a  gun.  Some  of  our  pickets,  unfortu- 
nately going  too  far  to  the  front,  were  taken  prisoners 
during  the  night. 

"At  about  five  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  3d,  Cap- 
tain Townsend  went  out  with  Companies  B  and  I)  and 
relieved  Broatch.  As  soon  as  he  got  out,  Townsend  ad- 
vanced his  men  as  skirmishers  some  three  hundred  yards 
beyond  the  regiment,  which  moved  up  to  the  impromptu 
rifle-pits,  which  were  formed  partially  by  a  stone  wall 
and  partially  by  a  rail  fence.  Just  as  soon  as  our  skir- 
mishers were  posted  they  began  firing  at  the  rebel  skir- 
mishers, and  kept  it  up  all  day,  until  the  grand  attack  in 
the  afternoon.  Before  they  had  been  out  twenty  minutes, 
Corporal  Huxham,  of  Company  B,  was  instantly  killed 
by  a  rebel  bullet.  It  was  not  discovered  until  another 
of  our  skirmishers,  getting  out  of  ammunition,  went  up 
to  him,  saying,  'Sam,  let  me  have  some  cartridges.'  Ee- 
ceiving  no  answer,  he  stooped  down  and  discovered  tliat 
a  bullet  had  entered  the  poor  fellow's  mouth  and  gone 
out  at  the  back  of  his  head,  killing  the  brave,  Chancel- 
lorsville-scarred  corporal  so  quickly  that  he  never  knew 
what  hurt  him. 

"  Presently  Captain  Moore  was  ordered  down  with  four 
companies  into  a  lot  near  by,  to  drive  the  rebel  sharp- 
shooters out  of  a  house  and  barn  from  whence  they  were 
constantly  picking  off  our  men.  Moore  went  down  on  a 
double-quick,  and,  as  usual,  ahead  of  his  men ;  he  was 
first  man  in  the  barn,  and  as  he  entered  the  Butternuts 
were  already  jumping  out.  Moore  and  his  men  soon 
cleared  the  barn,  and  then  started  for  the  house.  Here 
that  big  sergeant  in  Company  J  (Norton)  sprang  in  at 
the  front  door  just  in  time  to  catch  a  bullet  in  his  thigh, 


THE  FOURTEENTH  AT  GETTYSBURG.         289 

from  a  reb  watching  at  the  back ;  but  that  reb  did  not 
live  long  to  brag  of  it,  one  of  our  boys  taking  him  *  on 
the  wing.'  Moore  soon  cleared  the  house  out  and  went 
back  with  his  men.  Later  in  the  day  the  rebels  again 
occupied  the  house,  and  Major  Ellis  took  the  regiment 
and  drove  them  out,  burning  the  house,  so  as  not  to  be 
bothered  by  any  more  concealed  sharpshooters  in  it." 

"  Yes,  I  know  the  major  don't  like  to  do  a  thing  but 
once,  so  he  always  does  it  thoroughly  the  first  time." 

"  It  was  in  these  charges  for  the  possession  of  that 
house  we  lost  more  officers  and  men  than  in  all  the  rest 
of  the  figlit. 

"  About  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  enemy,  who 
had  been  silent  so  long  that  the  boys  were  cooking  coffee, 
smoking,  sleeping,  etc.,  suddenly  opened  all  their  batte- 
ries of  reserve  artillery  upon  the  position  held  by  our 
corps  (the  Second).  First  one  great  gun  spoke ;  then,  as 
if  it  had  been  the  signal  for  the  commencement  of  an  ar- 
tillery conversation,  the  whole  hundred  and  twenty  or 
more  opened  their  mouths  at  once  and  poured  out  their 
thunder.  A  perfect  storm  of  shot  and  shell  rained  around 
and  among  us.  The  boys  quickly  jumped  to  their  rifles, 
and  lay  down  behind  the  wall  and  rail  barricade.  For 
two  hours  this  storm  of  shot  and  shell  continued,  and 
seemed  to  increase  in  fury.  Good  God!  I  never  heard 
anything  like  it,  and  our  regiment  has  been  under  fire 
'  somewhat,'  as  you  know.  The  ground  trembled  like  an 
aspen  leaf;  the  air  was  full  of  small  fragments  of  lead 
and  iron  from  the  shells.  Then  the  sounds — there  was 
the  peculiar  'whoo?  —  ivhoof  —  whoo-ooT  of  the  round- 
shot;  the  ' tvhich-07ie?  —  which-ovef  of  that  fiendish 
Whitworth  projectile,  and  the  demoniac  shriek  of  shells. 
It  seemed  as  if  all  the  devils  in  hell  were  holdinor  hiij^h 
carnival.  But,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  it  was  like  many 
other  'sensation  doings,'  'great  cry  and  little  wool,'  ns 
our  regiment,  and,  in  fact,  the  whole  corps,  lost  very  few 
men  by  it,  the  missiles  passing  over  beyond  our  position, 
19 


290  THE  FOURTEENTH  AT  GETTYSBURG. 

save  the  Wbitwoyth  projectiles,  which  did  not  quite  reach 
us,  as  their  single  gun  of  that  description  was  two  miles 
off'.  Had  the  enemy  had  better  artillerists  at  their  guns, 
or  a  better  view  of  our  position,  I  cannot  say  what  would 
have  been  the  final  result;  but  certain  it  is,  nothing  mor- 
tal could  have  stood  that  fire  long,  had  it  been  better 
directed,  and  if  our  corps  had  broken  that  day,  Gettys- 
burg would  have  been  a  lost  battle,  and  General  Lee,  in- 
stead of  Heintzelman,  the  commanding  officer  in  this 
District  of  Columbia  to-day. 

"  About  three  P.  M.  the  enemy's  fire  slackened,  died 
away,  and  the  smoke  lifted  to  disclose  a  corps  of  the  rebel 
'Grand  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,'  advancing  across 
the  long  level  plain  in  our  front,  in  three  magnilicent 
lines  of  battle,  with  the  troops  massed  in  close  column  by 
division  on  both  flanks.  How  splendidly  they  looked ! 
Our  skirmishers,  who  had  stayed  at  their  posts  through 
all,  gave  them  volley  after  volley  as  they  came  on,  until 
Captain  Townsend  was  ordered  to  bring  his  men  in,  which 
he  did  in  admirable  order;  his  men,  loading  and  firing 
all  the  way,  came  in  steadily  and  coolly — all  that  were 
left  of  them,  for  a  good  half  of  them  were  killed  or 
wounded  before  they  reached  the  regiment, 

"  On,  on  came  the  rebels,  with  colors  flying  and  bayo- 
nets gleaming  in  the  sunlight,  keeping  their  lines  as 
straight  as  if  on  parade ;  over  fences  and  ditches  they 
come,  but  still  their  lines  never  break,  and  still  they  come. 
For  a  moment  all  is  hush  along  our  lines,  as  w^e  gaze  in 
silent  admiration  at  these  brave  rebs;  then  our  division 
commander,  "Aleck  Hayes,'  rides  up,  and,  pointing  to  the 
last  fence  the  enemy  must  cross  before  reaching  us,  says, 
'Don't  fire  till  they  get  to  that  fence;   then  let  'em  have.' 

"  On,  on,  come  the  rebs,  till  we  can  see  the  whites  of 
their  eyes,  and  hear  their  officers  command, '  Steady,  boys, 
steady  !'  They  reach  the  fence,  some  hundred  yards  in 
front  of  us,  wdien  suddenly  the  command  'Fire!'  rings 
down  our  line ;  and,  rising  as  one  man,  the  rifles  of  the  old 


THE  FOURTEENTH  AT  GETTYSBURG.  291 

Second  Army  Corps  ring  a  death-knell  for  many  a  brave 
heart,  in  butternut  dress,  worthy  of  a  better  cause — a 
knell  that  will  ring  in  the  hearts  of  many  mothers,  sisters, 
and  wives,  on  many  a  plantation  in  the  once  fair  and 
sunny  South,  where  there  will  be  weeping  and  wailing 
for  the  soldier  who  never  returns,  who  sleeps  at  Gettys- 
burg ! 

"  '  Load  and  fire  at  will  1' 

"  Oh,  heavens !  how  we  poured  our  fire  into  them  tlien 
— a  merciless  hail  of  lead  !  Their  first  line  wavers,  breaks, 
and  runs ;  some  of  their  color  sergeants  halt  and  plant 
their  standards  firmly  in  the  ground — they  are  too  well 
disciplined  to  leave  their  colors  yet.  But  they  stop  only 
for  a  moment ;  then  fail  back,  colors  and  all.  They  fall 
back,  but  rally,  and  dress  on  the  other  lines,  under  a  tre- 
mendous fire  from  our  advancing  rifles;  rally,  and  come 
on  again  to  meet  their  death.  Line  after  line  of  rebels 
come  up,  deliver  their  fire,  one  volley,  and  they  are  mown 
down  like  the  grass  of  the  field.  They  fall  back,  form, 
and  come  up  again,  with  their  battle-flags  still  waving ; 
but  again  they  are  driven  back. 

"  On  our  right  is  a  break  in  the  line,  where  a  battery 
has  been  in  position,  but,  falling  short  of  ammunition, 
and  unable  to  move  it  off  under  such  a  heavy  fire,  the 
gunners  have  abandoned  it  to  its  fate.  "Some  of  the  rebels 
gain  a  footing  here.  One  daring  fellow  leaps  upon  the 
gun,  and  waves  his  rebel  flag.  In  an  instant  a  right 
oblique  fire  from  '  ours,'  and  a  left  oblique  from  the  regi- 
ment on  the  left  of  the  position,  rolls  the  ragged  rebel  and 
rebel  rag  in  the  dust — rolls  the  determined  force  baclj: 
from  the  gun,  and  it  is  ours. 

"  By-and-by  the  enemy's  lines  come  up  smaller  and 
thinner,  break  quicker,  and  are  longer  in  forming.  Our 
boys  are  wild  with  excitement,  and  grow  reckless.  Lieu- 
tenant John  Tibbetts  stands  up  yelling  like  mad,  '  Give  it 
to  'em  1  give  it  to  'em  I  A  bullet  enters  his  arm — that 
«ame  arm  in  which  he  caught  two  bullets  at  Antietam; 


292         THE  FOURTEENTH  AT  GETTYSBURG. 

Johnny's  game  arm  drops  by  his  side ;  he  turns  quickly 
to  his  first  lieutenant,  saying,  '  I  have  got  another  bullet 
in  the  same  old  arm,  but  I  don't  care  a  d — n !' 

"Heaven  forgive  Johnny!  rebel  lead  will  sometimes 
bring  rebel  words  with  it.  All  of  'OuRs'  are  carried 
away  with  excitement ;  the  sergeant-major  leaps  a  wall, 
dashes  down  among  the  rebs,  and  brings  back  a  battle 
flag ;  others  follow  our  sergeant-major ;  and  before  the 
enemy's  repulse  becomes  a  rout,  we  of  the  Fourteenth 
have  six  of  their  battle- flags. 

"  Prisoners  are  brought  in  by  hundreds,  officers  and 
men.  We  pay  no  attention  to  them,  being  too  busy 
sending  our  leaden  messengers  after  the  now  flying 
hosts.  One  of  our  prisoners,  a  rebel  officer,  turns  to  me, 
saying— 

"  '  Where  are  the  men  we've  been  fiG^htino-?' 

"'Here,'  I  answer,  pointing  down  our  short,  thin  line. 

"  '  Good  God  !'  says  he,  '  is  that  all  ?  I  wish  I  could 
get  back.' " 

"  Yes,"  I  interrupted,  "  Townsend  told  me  that  when  he 
fell  back  with  his  skirmishers  and  saw  the  whole  length 
of  our  one  small,  thin  little  line  pitted  against  those  then 
full  lines  of  the  rebels,  bis  heart  almost  sank  within  him; 
but  Meade  had  planned  that  battle  well,  and  every  one  of 
our  soldiers  told," 

"  Yes,"  said  Fred,  "  Meade  planned  the  fight  well,  and 
Hancock,  Hayes,  and,  in  fact,  all  of  them  fought  it  well. 
All  through  the  fight  General  Hancock  might  be  seen 
galloping  up  and  down  the  lines  of  our  bully  corps,  re- 
gardless of  the  leaden  hail  all  about  him ;  and  when 
finally  severely  wounded  in  the  hip,  he  was  carried  a 
little  to  the  rear,  where  he  lay  on  his  stretcher,  and  still 
gave  his  orders. 

"The  fight  was  now  about  over;  there  was  only  an 
occasional  shot  exchanged  V)ctwcen  the  retreating  rebel 
sharpshooters  and  our  own  men,  and  I  looked  about  me, 
and  took  an  account  of  stock.    We  had  lost  about  seventy 


THE  WAY  JOE  ALLEN  BLRIED  VANDEGRIFT.  293 

killed  and  wounded  and  taken  prisoners,  leaving  only  a 
hundred  men  fit  for  dut3^  We  had  killed  treble  that 
number,  and  taken  nearly  a  brigade  of  prisoners;  six 
stan(Js  of  colors,  and  guns,  swords,  and  pistols  without 
number.  For  the  first  time  we  had  been  through  an 
action  without  having  an  oflftcer  killed  or  fatally  wounded, 
though  Tibbetts,  Seymour,  Stoughton,  Snagg,  Seward, 
and  Dudley  were  more  or  less  seriously  wounded,  and 
Coit  disabled. 

"  Hardly  a  man  in  the  regiment  had  over  two  or  three 
cartridges  left.  Dead  and  wounded  rebels  were  piled  up 
in  heaps  in  front  of  us,  especially  in  front  of  Companies 
A  and  B,  where  Sharpe's  rifles  had  done  effective  work. 

"  It  was  a  great  victory.  '  Fredericksburg  on  the  other 
leg,'  as  the  boys  said.  The  rebel  prisoners  told  us  their 
leaders  assured  them  that  they  would  only  meet  the 
Pennsylvania  militia ;  but  when  they  saw  that  d — d  ace 
of  clubs  (the  trefoil  badge  of  the  Second  Corps)  a  cry 
went.through  their  lines — 

"  '  The  Army  of  the  Potomac,  by  Heaven !' 

"  So  ended  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  and  the  sun  sank 
to  rest  that  night  on  a  battle-field  that  had  proved  that 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  could  and  would  save  the 
people  of  the  North  from  invasion  whenever  and  wherever 
they  may  be  assailed. 

"'  Long  shall  the  tale  be  told, 
Yea,  when  our  babes  are  old.'  " 

"  Pshaw,  Fred  !  you  are  getting  sentimental.  Let's  go 
out  in  the  air  and  have  another  ciorar." 


THE  WAT  JOE  ALLEN  BTTSIED  VANDEGEITT. 

"I  promised  to  tell  you  something  about  Aldie  and 
Upperville,"  said  the  adjutant;  "we  did  not  go  into  the 
fight  ourselves,  being  for  the  first  time  kept  in  reserve ; 


294      THE  WAY  JOE  ALLEN  BURIED  VANDEGRIFT. 

but  after  we  bad  finisbed  driving  tbe  enernj,  and  began 
to  move  back  to  tbe  array,  our  brigade  bad  tbe  bonor  of 
covering  tbe  rear,  wben  we  bad  sonne  tolerably  sbarp 
woi'k. 

"  You  were  witb  us  last  year  wben  we  bad  tbat  set-to 
witb  Stuart,  at  Aldie,  and  remember  tbe  position  pretty 
well.  Tbe  rebels  came  up  tbe  Snickersville  Koad  in 
just  tbe  same  way  tbey  attacked  last  December;  but 
Kilpatrick  met  tbem  differently.  He  swept  round  out- 
side of  tbe  town,  and  cbarged  into  tbe  road  by  tbe  first 
wood.  Tbe  Tentb  New  York  went  first,  and  drove  tbem 
to  that  dip  of  tbe  road  wbere  it  bends  in  botb  directions. 
Here  tbey  were  met  and  forced  back.  Kilpatrick  sent 
in  tbe  Second  New  York  as  support. 

"  Tbeir  major,  instead  of  leading,  gave  bis  orders  from 
tbe  rear,  wbicb  produced  some  confusion,  and  conse- 
quently tbe  rebels  were  getting  tbe  better  of  our  men. 
Tbey  say  tbat  Kilpatrick  was  balf  mad.  He  bad  brougbt 
on  tbe  figbt,  and  now  if  his  men  failed  bim  be  was  lost. 
Just  then  Colonel  Doughty  witb  bis  First  Maine  came  up 
in  perfect  order.  Kilpatrick  rode  up  to  tbem,  and  tbey 
dashed  forward  witb  a  vigor  tbat  was  irresistible.  Eight 
before  them  tbey  swept  the  rebels,  past  the  woods  and 
tbe  hollow,  and  up  to  the  last  bill,  wbere  there  were  some 
old  baystacks  grouped  togetber.  Some  of  tbe  rebels 
were  protecting  themselves  under  tbeir  cover,  and  opened 
a  heavy  fire;  but  it  was  no  use.  Eleven  borses  went 
down  rigbt  around  tbe  stacks;  but  even  tbat  did  not 
cbeck  tbe  Maine  fellows.  Closing  in,  tbey  drove  tbe 
enemy  away,  and,  fighting  band  to  band,  forced  tbem 
down  tbe  steep  into  the  hollow  beyond. 

"It  was  terribly  close  work ;  Kilpatrick  bimself  was,  tbey 
say,  once  surrounded  and  a  prisoner,  but  be  was  cut  out 
before  be  could  be  fairly  taken.  That  fine  old  soldier. 
Colonel  Dougbty,  got  in  too  deep.  Tbe  rebels  ordered 
him  to  yield,  but  be  refused.  If  be  bad  bad  bis  own 
horse,  wbicb  was  so  perfectly  trained  tbat  be  could  do 


THE  WAY  JOE  ALLEN  BURIED  VANDEGRIFT.  295 

anything,  the  old  man  would  have  succeeded  in  keeping 
a  clear  place  around  him,  and  would  have  cut  his  way 
through ;  but  the  animal  on  which  he  was  mounted  was 
inferior  in  strength  and  activity  to  the  emergency.  The 
rebels  pressed  in  upon  him,  and  the  brave  old  man. 
fighting  to  the  last,  went  down.  There  was  no  holding 
the  Maine  boys  after  that.  The  rebels  were  driven  well 
down  the  hill,  our  artillery  got  into  position  and  raked 
them  fearfully,  and  for  a  mile  or  two  it  was  a  perfect  rout. 
"  The  rebels  cut  across  the  Middlebury  Road,  which, 
through  Duffie's  misfortune  that  morning,  was  free.  Re- 
inforcements coming  up  enabled  them  to  get  into  order 
again,  and  hold  us  for  a  while.  Once  again  there  was 
severe  fighting,  and  again  they  had  to  fall  back,  though 
this  time  in  a  little  better  order.  Still,  each  attack  shook 
tliem  more  and  more.  At  last  they  began  retreating  ra- 
pidly, leaving  us  a  gun. 

"  After  two  days'  fightinir,  all  in  our  favor,  they  were 
forced  to  make  a  stand  at  Upperville,  in  order  to  secure 
their  line  of  retreat  through  Ashby's  Gap.  All  along  the 
stone-walls  by  the  roadside,  they  dismounted  sharp- 
shooters, and  wherever  they  deployed,  they  protected 
themselves  by  similar  breastworks.  Kilpatrick  took  the 
same  precaution  on  the  road,  and  it  saved  him  from  some 
trouble.  His  column  charging  past  the  sharpshooters, 
caught  such  a  heavy  fire  that  it  had  to  fall  back,  and 
Stuart's  men  charged  in  their  turn.  Then  our  carbineers 
let  them  have  it  with  terrible  eifect,  weeding  out  their 
squadrons  effectuall3^  Over  the  stone- walls,  and  through 
the  inclosures  our  men  went  at  them,  sometimes  throwing 
down  the  fences,  at  others  going  over  them.  The  fight- 
ing was  something  like  Brandy  Station,  though  we  had 
more  decidedly  the  advantage.  The  rebels  lost  very  se- 
verely. They  never  succeeded  in  fairly  meeting  a  charge, 
P'rom  hill  to  hill  they  went,  leaving  another  piece  in  our 
hands,  and  at  last  were  driven  pell-mell  into  the  Gap.  It 
was  not  until  they  reached  the  other  side,  and  were  co- 


296  THE  WAY  JOE  ALLEN  BURIED  VANDEGRIFT. 

vered  by  their  infantry  and  artillery,  that  they  were  able 
to  make  a  stand. 

"  Kilpatrick's  brigade  liad  the  work  that  day  all  to  it- 
self; and  they  did  it  so  thoroughly  that  we  in  the  reserve 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  follow  up.  The  next  morning, 
Pleasanton  having  found  out  all  he  wanted  to  know,  and 
done  what  he  wanted,  gave  orders  to  fall  back  to  our 
position,  covering  the  march  of  the  army. 

"  Our  brigade  now  took  the  rear  of  the  column ;  the 
First  Pennsylvania  and  First  New  Jersey,  with  some  of 
the  Third  Pennsylvania,  being  deployed  as  skirmishers. 
As  soon  as  the  rebels  discovered  that  we  were  actually 
retiring,  they  came  swarming  out  of  the  Gap.     They  had 
received  such  a  lesson,  however,  that  it  was  not  until  after 
we  had  passed  through  Upper ville  that  they  attempted 
to  close.     Here  they  came  out  suddenly,  wheeling  from 
behind  a  hill,  and  cl]arged.     It  was  a  very  distinguished 
failure.     They  rode  in  toward  our  skirmishers  as  if  fully 
determined  to  break  through ;  but  Lucas  opened  such  a 
scathing  fire  upon  them  that  they  reeled  back  in  dismay. 
"Among  our  skirmishers  that  day,  Private  Vandegrift, 
of  Company  D,  particularly  distinguished  himself.     All 
our  men  were  cool  and  daring,  keeping  their  positions 
steadily,  but  he  fought  with  marked   judgment,  never 
throwing  away  his  fire,  and  always  the  nearest  man  to 
the  enemy.     Close  to  his  side  fought  Joseph  Allen,  of 
Company  F,  a  reckless,  warm-hearted,  light-headed  boy. 
I  do  not  know  that  they  fought  really  better  than  others, 
but  they  happened   to   catch   my   eye,  and   subsequent 
events  impressed  their  names  on  my  memory.     Curiously 
enough,  the  storm  of  bullets  fired  by  the  rebels  did  not 
injure  a  man  of  our  line.     Their  skirmishers  were  nervous 
and  fired  wild,  while  the  aim  of  our  men  was  unusually 
fatal. 

"  At  last  the  rebels  brought  up  some  artillery,  and  began 
firing  shells  at  our  skirmishers,  while  their  men  kept 
carefully  out  of  range.     One  shell  burst  under  the  horse 


THE  WAY  JOE  ALLEN  BURIED  VAXDEGRIFT.  297 

of  Captain  Englebert,  of  the  Third  Pennsylvania,  curiously 
enough  without  harming  horse  or  rider.  Another  struck 
Yandegrift  in  the  side,  tearing  through  him  without  ex- 
ploding. As  he  fell,  Allen  sprang  to  the  ground,  seized 
him,  and  placed  his  body  carefully  by  the  fence.  At 
this  moment  the  rebels  made  another  abortive  charcre, 
and  Allen  had  to  remount.  This  was  near  the  Dover 
Mills,  on  the  Middleburg  Eoad,  and  terminated  their 
attempt  at  pursuit.  Leaving  this  body  behind  seemed  to 
weigh  upon  Joe's  mind.  He  kept  as  far  in  the  rear  as 
he  could  through  the  whole  after-movement, 

"  When  the  regiment  halted,  he  came  up  to  Captain 
Lucas  and  begged  permission  to  bring  it  in.  The  Cap- 
tain gave  leave,  if  the  body  did  not  lie  inside  the  rebel 
lines,  and  if  he  could  find  any  men  to  accompany  him. 
Craven,  of  Company  A,  immediately  volunteered.  A 
Pennsylvania  man  also  pressed  forward,  as  did  two  other 
Jersey  men.  These  five  mounted  and  quietly  advanced 
toward  the  rebel  forces.  Managing  to  avoid  an  outlying 
picket,  they  stole  through  the  woods  until  they  were 
close  upon  the  spot  where  lay  Vandegrift's  body,  partially 
hidden  by  the  fence.  There,  within  one  hundred  yards, 
stretched  the  enemy's  skirmish  line,  with  no  obstruction 
intervening  between  them  and  the  body. 

" '  No  matter,'  said  our  men  to  each  other,  '  it  lies 
without  the  lines,  and  Ave  can  get  it  without  disobeying 
orders.' 

"So  suddenly  they  rode  out  of  the  woods  and  spread 
themselves  before  the  body.  As  they  did  so,  Craven 
dismounted  and  lifted  the  body  on  his  horse.  The  move- 
ment so  paralyzed  the  rebels  that  they  were  unaljle  to  fire 
until  after  he  had  done  this.  Then,  as  he  remounted,  they 
delivered  a  hast}^  and  ineffectual  fire.  Without  returning 
it  our  men  wheeled  and  clashed  back  into  cover  with  the 
burden  for  which  thev  had  risked  so  much.  Half  sadly, 
lialf  triumphantly,  they  bore  it  back  to  camp;  and  as 
they  laid  it  in  a  decent  grave  felt  a  soldier's  satisfaction 


298  BRAGG  AND  HIS  HIGH  PRIVATE. 

that  tbeir  comrade  obtained  a  proper  resting-place  from 
their  hands,  instead  of  being  tumbled  into  a  ditch  by  the 
enemy,  or  left  unburied,  a  prey  to  unclean  beasts  and  the 
foul  birds  of  prey." 


BEAGG  AND  HIS  HIGH  PRIVATE. 

"While  Bragg's  troops  were  on  their  retreat  from  Mur- 
freesborough,  Tenn.,  ragged,  hungry,  and  weary,  they 
straggled  along  the  road  for  miles,  with  an  eye  to  their 
own  comfort,  but  a  most  unmilitary  neglect  of  rules  and 
regulations.  Presently  one  of  them  espied,  in  the  woods 
near  by,  a  miserable  broken-down  mule,  which  he  at 
once  seized  and  proceeded  to  put  to  his  use,  by  improvis- 
ing, from  stray  pieces  of  rope,  a  halter  and  stirrups. 
This  done,  he  mounted  with  grim  satisfaction,  and  pur- 
sued his  way.  He  was  a  wild  Texas  tatterdemalion, 
bareheaded,  barefooted,  and  wore  in  lieu  of  a  coat  a  rusty- 
looking  hunting-shirt.  With  hair  unkempt,  beard  un- 
shorn, and  face  unwashed,  his  appearance  was  grotesque 
enough ;  but,  to  add  to  it,  he  drew  from  some  receptacle 
his  corn-cob  pipe,  and  made  perfect  his  happiness  by 
indulging  in  a  comfortable  smoke. 

While  thus  sauntering  along,  a  company  of  bestarred 
and  bespangled  horsemen — General  Bragg  and  staff — 
rode  up,  and  were  about  to  pass  on,  when  the  rather  un- 
usual appearance  of  the  man  attracted  their  notice.  The 
object  of  their  attention,  however,  apparently  neither 
knew  nor  cared  to  know  them,  but  looked  and  smoked 
ahead  with  careless  indifference. 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  asked  the  Major-general. 

"Nobody,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Where  did  you  come  from?" 

"  Nowhere." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?" 

"  I  don't  know." 


THE  RIGHT  MAN  IN  THE  RIGHT  PLACE.  299 

"  Where  do  you  belong?" 

"  Don't  belong  anywhere." 

"Don't  you  belong  to  Bragg's  army?" 

''  Bragg's  army !  Bragg's  army !"  replied  the  chap. 
"  Why,  he's  got  no  army  !  One  half  he  shot  in  Kentucky, 
and  the  other  half  has  just  been  whipped  to  death  at 
Murfreesborough." 

Bragg  asked  no  more  questions,  but  turned  and  spur- 
red away. 


THE  EIGHT  MAN  IN  THE  EIGHT  PLAGE. 

For  some  time  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  knew  a 
jovial,  smiling,  wide-awake  personage  (a  native  of  the 
"Green  Isle,"  but  who  is  remarkably  well  cut-and-dried 
and  seasoned,  nevertheless)  by  the  name  of  M.  E.  Joyce. 
He  corresponded  for  different  Northern  papers,  visited 
around  among  the  camps,  was  always  in  with  his  laugh 
and  his  story,  and  as  fond  of  accompanying  an  expedi- 
tion, sharing  danger,  and  having  a  rough  time,  as  "any 
other  man." 

Who  of  our  army  officers  does  not  remember  little 
Joyce — or  "  Jice,"  as  we  termed  him?  That  he  was  use- 
ful as  well  as  ornamental,  and  that  his  brains  were  put 
in  pretty  nearly  tjje  right  place,  let  the  following  facts  be 
ample  proof. 

In  November,  '63,  while  plodding  in  the  vicinity  of 
Nashville,  crossing  over  from  one  camp  to  another,  our 
liero  was  picked  up,  or,  rather,  pulled  down,  from  his 
horse  by  some  rebel  guerrillas  or  patrols.  He  was  ratter 
taken  aback ;  but  for  an  instant  only.  He  was  soon 
entirely  "aisy"  with  them — telling  them  all  sorts  of  a 
story,  and,  as  he  states  it,  "letting  on  secesh    like  the 

d 1,"  as  a  butternut  citizen.     Satisfied  that  he  was  "a 

good  enough  Morgan  "  for  them,  he  was  not  retained  long ; 


300  THE  RIGHT  MAN  IN  THE  RIOnT  PLACE. 

and  lie  hastily  scrambled  back  to  the  city  highly  elated 
■with  his  adventure. 

"  Hark'ee,  now,  Joyce;  you  are  just  my  man,"  said 
Colonel  Truesdail.  "You  can  go  to  Murfreesborough 
without  any  trouble — can  get  me  the  information  we 
desire.  I  will  get  you  a  good  horse  and  outfit,  and  pay 
you  three  hundred  dollars  for  the  trip,  if  you  are  quick 
and  smart." 

The  newspaper-man's  chuckle  rounded  into  an  atten- 
tive period,  as  he  pondered  over  the  idea,  and  heard  all 
about  the  "  how  to  do  it "  from  the  Chief  of  Police.  He 
was  to  ride  boldly  up  to  the  rebel  lines  and  claim  to  be 
the  regular  correspondent  of  the  Cincinnati  "  Enquirer  " 
• — a  man  of  conservative  sentiments,  who  was  friendly  to 
the  South,  Avas  opposed  to  the  war,  was  in  the  Union 
army  as  regular  correspondent,  had  written  something  to 
offend  General  Eosecrans,  and  the  latter  had  imprisoned 
and  abused  him;  and  he  was  now  determined  to  injure 
Eosecrans  and  his  crowd  all  he  could.  Joyce  liked  the 
idea.  It  was  novel  and  feasible — would  take  him  into 
tciU  company,  and  would  pay  well.  Joyce,  therefore, 
prepared ;  and  about  the  25th  he  sallied  forth  as  boldly 
as  would  the  knight  of  La  Mancha,  and  as  happy  as 
Sancho,  his  squire,  when  at  his  best  estate  as  "governor 
of  an  island." 

The  joke  and  Joj^ce  succeeded  admirably.  He  was 
taken  to  Murfreesborough,  and  into  the  august  presence 
of  Bragg.  He  told  his  tale  with  an  air  of  injured  inno- 
cence, and  swore  great  oaths  of  vengeance  against  the 
"  stupid  Dutchman,"  the  leader  of  the  Yankee  fanatics 
and  cowards  at  Nashville,  &c.  His  assertions  were  par- 
tially borne  out  by  one  of  General  Bragg's  principal  offi- 
cers, who  stated  that  he  had  recently  seen  an  account  in 
a  Nashville  or  Louisville  paper  of  a  difficulty  with  some 
writer  of  the  Cincinnati  "Enquirer,"  whom  the  Union 
commander  had  imprisoned  and  then  banished  from  his 
army  lines. 


THE  RIGHT  MAN  IN  THE  RIGHT  PLACE.  301 

Bragg  was  not  a  little  pleased  at  the  incident.  A  tyrant 
in  his  own  "  bailiwick,"  he  was  gratified  to  hear  of  the 
malignant  fanaticism  and  injustice  of  the  opposing  com- 
mander. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  3'ou,  sir,"  he  said,  addressing  the 
humble  representative  of  Cincinnati,  "  for  I  respect  your 
occupation  and  admire  the  men  who  employ  you.  The 
Cincinnati  '  Enquirer'  is  the  only  paper  in  the  West  that 
does  the  cause  of  the  South  even  common  justice.  I  will 
protect  you  within  my  lines,  and  render  your  stay  as 
comfortable  as  possible." 

Mr.  Joyce  was  thankful  and  at  ease ;  he  always  is. 
He  was  again  slightly  severe  on  the  "  Dutchman"  in  com- 
mand at  Nashville,  and  on  the  "  abolition  fanatics"  of 
the  North,  and,  now  that  he  was  in  the  proper  position, 
it  should  not  be  his  fault  if  he  did  not  write  home  to 
the  Cincinnati  "  Enquirer"  some  homely  truths,  pro  bono 
publico.  Ilis  only  fear  was  that  he  would  not  be  able  to 
send  his  productions  to  the  "  Enquirer." 

"Never  fear  about  that,"  replied  General  Bragg,  "I 
will  see  to  that.  My  man  John  Morgan  is  superintendent 
of  the  railroad-system  in  the  Southwest,  and  will  get 
your  letters  through  by  the  first  trains." 

Pleased  with  the  conceit,  Bragg  and  Joyce  both  smiled 
over  a  nip  of  quite  new  and  sharp  Robertson  County 
whiskey.  Supper  being  announced,  Joyce  was  invited 
to  the  table,  and,  with  the  usual  modesty  and  timidity 
of  his  ancestry  in  the  ascendant,  he  sat  down  to  his  rations 
of  beans,  coffee,  and  corn  bread.  Bragg  and  his  staff 
were  there  assembled,  and  the  tale  of  Joyce  was  again 
unfolded  to  admiring  auditors.  After  supper  Joyce 
retired  to  a  vacant  corner,  and  with  pen  and  paper  he 
toiled  for  an  hour,  writing  up  one  of  the  most  scathing 
and  glowing  diatribes  upon  low-lived  "  Dutchmen"  and 
high-toned  gentlemen,  the  horrors  of  war,  the  blessings 
of  peace,  and  the  ignorance  and  folly  of  Northern  aboli- 
tionists and  fanatics.    The  epistle  was  properly  enveloped, 


302  THE  RIGHT  MAN  IN  THE  RIGHT  PLACE. 

addressed  in  style  (for  Joyce  is  an  elegant  and  rapid  pen- 
man) to  the  editor  of  the  Cincinnati  "  Enquirer,"  and 
handed  to  an  aid  of  General  Bragg's  to  be  forwarded  by 
the  Morgan  line;  and  thus  ended  the  task  of  our  quon- 
dam correspondent.  Pie  strolled  over  the  town  in  com- 
pany with  an  under-officer  or  two,  and  a  fair  cigar.  To 
his  companions  he  expatiated  largely  upon  Nashville 
army  affairs  and  Northern  sentiments  and  sympathies ; 
and  it  need  not  be  specially  set  down,  for  aught  we  know, 
that  he  told  any  more  of  "  whoppers"  than  the  time  and 
occasion  would  warrant. 

Next  day  the  man  of  the  "Enquirer,"  after  breakfast- 
ing with  some  officers  at  Bragg's  head-quarters,  set  out  to 
view  the  town,  as  per  assurance  of  the  officers  that  he 
was  quite  at  liberty  to  do.  The  railroad-depot,  the  store- 
houses, the  outer  works,  &c.,  were  visited,  in  the  most  in- 
different and  unconcerned  manner.  Ere  long,  however, 
some  military  officer,  dressed  up  in  a  little  "  brief  author- 
ity," accosted  our  explorer  after  items  and  demanded  that 
he  give  an  account  of  himself. 

"  To  the  divil  with  ye !  An'  is  it  the  likes  of  you  that 
is  afther  stoppin'  me  and  axin'  me  name  an' business? 
Go  to  Major-General  Bragg,  an'  he'll  tell  ye  who  I  am !" 

The  officer  was  not  to  be  thus  put  aside ;  he  collared 
Joyce  forthwith,  and  led  him  to  the  provost- marshal's 
office,  near  by,  supposing  him  to  be  a  shirking  soldier 
or  skulking  conscript.  The  provost-marshal  was  of  the 
same  opinion. 

"  I'll  send  you  to  your  regiment.  "What  is  it  ?"  asked 
the  marshal. 

"  You'll  not  do  the  likes  at  all,  now,"  said  Joyce,  "  for 
I  don't  belong  to  any." 

"Oh,  ho!  you  don't?  Then  you're  just  the  man  I 
want ;  for  I  know  of  a  regiment  that  has  just  room  for 
you,"  replied  the  marshal. 

Matters  began  to  look  serious  for  Joyce.  Th«>  town 
was  all  astir,  for  this  was  but  a  few  days  before  the  buttio 


THE  RfGIlT  MAN  IN  THE  RIGHT  PLACE.  303 

of  Stone  River.  He  told  his  story  to  the  marshal,  and  it 
was  agreed  that  if  he  should  go  back  at  once  to  Bragg's 
head- quarters  and  get  a  pass,  or  indorsement,  it  would 
be  all  right.  Joyce  did  so;  and  an  actual  pass  was 
granted  to  him,  over  Bragg's  sign  manual,  giving  him 
the  run  of  the  town — which  pass  Joyce  showed  to  the 
marshal  with  considerable  glee  and,  withal,  a  slight  taste 
of  impudent  defiance. 

After  looking  about  the  town,  our  correspondent  took 
the  cars  for  a  trip  down  towards  Bridgeport — was  away 
two  or  three  days,  going  as  far  as  Atlanta,  Ga.,  ascertained 
the  general  condition  of  the  rebel  rear,  and  returned  to 
Murfreesborough.  Again  lie  basked  at  times  in  the 
presence  of  General  Bragg  and  his  officials,  and  wrote 
lively  and  caustic  philij)pics  for  the  able  "Enquirer," 
and  sat  at  Bragg's  table  and  discussed  the  war  and  his 
muttons.  And,  to  cap  the  very  climax  of  absurdity  and 
impudence,  our  man  mounted  his  "Rosinante" — the  horse 
he  sallied  forth  with  from  the  police  stable  at  Nashville 
— and  rode  out  to  one  or  more  of  the  grand  division 
reviews  with  President  Jefferson  Davis,  Bragg,  and  his 
escort — Davis  being  then  on  his  Southern  tour. 

It  was  now  time  for  Joyce  to  be  off,  while  his  budget 
was  full  of  news  and  the  signs  were  favorable.  Some 
officers  invited  him  on  the  nisfht  of  the  review  to  go  out 
with  them  to  see  some  fair  maids  and  have  a  good  time. 
The  girls  were  at  an  out-of-the-way  place ;  and  the  less 
said  about  their  chastity  the  better — so  reports  Joyce. 
Arrived  there,  the  party  dismount,  hitch  their  horses, 
and  make  themselves  agreeable  within-doors.  Joyce 
watches  his  opportunity,  slips  out  for  a  moment,  antiea 
the  horses  and  turns  them  loose  in  the  darkness  to  pre- 
vent possible  pursuit,  stealthily  mounts  his  own  horse — 
or,  more  probably,  the  best  one  of  the  lot — and  makes 
off'  for  very  dear  life.  He  was  fortunate  enough  to  elude 
the  pickets,  the  night  being  very  dark  ;  and  ere  morning 


304  THE  FIGHT  AT  BRANDY. 

he  made  liis  way  across  to  tlie  Cumberland  River,  and 
thence  to  the  Federal  lines. 

His  information  was  received  with  the  liveliest  satis- 
faction, and  the  joke  thus  perpetrated  upon  both  Bragg 
and  the  Cincinnati  "  Enquirer"  was  the  talk  of  the  day.  Its 
importance  can  be  estimated  when  we  state  that  the  Union 
army  advanced  towards  Murfreesborough  a  short  time 
after  his  return.  His  statements  were  corroborated  by 
two  other  spies  just  in  from  Murfreesborough,  and  two 
days  after  his  return,  there  came  into  our  lines  a  most 
respectable  citizen,  previously  and  now  a  merchant  of 
Murfreesborough,  who  also  confirmed  Joyce's  story,  not 
only  as  to  his  army  information,  but  as  to  the  r6le  he  had 
played,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was  done. 


THE  TIGHT  AT  BKANDY. 

"It  was  the  prettiest  cavalry  fight  that  you  ever  saw," 
said  the  adjutant,  stretching  his  legs,  and  lighting  a  fresh 
cigar. 

''It  was  just  my  luck  to  lose  it,"  I  answered.  "Here 
have  I  been  lying;  growling,  and  grumbling,  while 
you  fellows  have  been  distinguishing  yourselves.  It 
was  miserable  to  be  taken  sick  just  when  the  army 
got  in  motion,  and  still  worse  not  to  hear  a  word  of 
what  was  going  on.  I  almost  wished  that  we  had  been 
a  news'paper  regiment,  so  tbaA  I  could  learn  something 
about  our  share  in  that  day's  work.  Be  a  good  fellow, 
and  play  reporter  for  my  benefit.  Freshen  hawse,  as  the 
nautical  novelists  say,  and  begin." 

"  Well,  we  were  lying  at  Warrenton  Junction,  making 
ourselves  as  comfortable  as  possible  after  the  raid,  when 
on  the  morning  of  the  8th  of  June,  the  whole  divi-ion 
was  ordered  out  in  the  very  liglitest  marching  order. 
That  night  we  lay   close   to   Kelly's  Ford,  in   column 


THE  FIGHT  AT  BRANDY.  305 

of  battalions,  the  men  holding  their  horses  as  they  slept^ 
and  no  fires  being  lighted. 

"  At  four  O'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  9th,  we  were 
again  in  motion,  and  got  across  the  ford  without  inter- 
ruption or  discovery.  Yorke,  with  the  third  squadron, 
was  in  advance,  and  as  we  moved,  he  managed  so  well 
that  he  bagged  every  picket  on  the  road.  Tlius  we  had 
got  almost  upon  the  rebel  camp  before  we  were  discovered. 
AVe  rode  right  into  Jones'  Brigade,  the  First  Jersey  and 
First  Pennsylvania  charging  together ;  and  before  they 
had  recovered  from  the  alarm  we  had  a  hundred  and 
fifty  prisoners.  The  rebels  were  then  forming  thick 
upon  the  hill-side  by  the  station,  and  they  had  a  battery 
playing  upon  us  like  fun.  Martin's  New  York  Battery 
on  our  side  galloped  into  position,  and  began  to  answer 
them.  Then  Wyndham  formed  his  whole  brigade  for  a 
charge,  except  a  squadron  of  the  First  Maryland,  left  to 
support  the  battery.  Our  boys  went  in  splendidly,  keep- 
ing well  together,  and  making  straight  for  the  rebel  bat- 
tery on  the  hill  behind  the  station.  Wyndham  himself 
rode  on  the  right,  and  Broderick  charged  more  toward 
the  left,  and  with  a  yell  we  were  on  them.  We  were 
only  two  hundred  and  eighty  strong,  and  in  front  of  us 
was  White's  Battalion  of  five  hundred.  No  matter  for 
that.  Wyndham  and  Broderick  were  leading,  and  they 
were  not  accustomed  to  count  odds, 

"As  we  dashed  fiercely  into  them,  sabre  in  hand,  they 
broke  like  a  wave  on  the  bows  of  a  ship,  and  over  and 
through  them  we  rode,  sabring  as  we  went.  We  could 
not  stop  to  take  prisoners,  for  there  in  front  of  us  was 
the  Twelfth  Virginia,  six  hundred  men,  riding  down  to 
support  White.  By  Jove,  sir,  that  was  a  charge  !  They 
came  up  splendidly,  looking  steadier  than  we  did  our- 
selves after  the  shock  of  the  first  charge.  I  dc  not  know 
whether  Wyndham  was  still  with  us,  or  if  he  liad  gone 
to  another  regiment;  but  there  was  Broderick  looking 
full  of  fight,  his  blue  eyes  in  a  blaze,  and  hia  sabro 
20 


306  THE  FIGHT  AT  BRANDY. 

elenclied,  riding  well  in  front.  At  them  we  went  again, 
and  some  of  them  tins  time  met  us  fairly.  I  saw  Brou- 
erick's  sabre  go  through  a  man,  and  the  rebel  gave  a 
convulsive  leap  out  of  his  saddle,  falling  senseless  to  the 
ground.  It  seemed  but  an  instant  before  the  rebels  were 
scattered  in  every  direction,  trying  now  and  then  to  rally 
in  small  parties,  but  never  daring  to  await  our  approach. 

"  Now,  there  were  the  guns  plain  before  us,  the  drivers 
yelling  at  their  horses,  and  trying  to  limber  up.  We 
caught  one  gun  before  they  could  move  it,  and  were 
dashing  after  the  others,  when  I  heard  Broderick  shout- 
ing in  a  stormy  voice.  I  tell  you,  it  was  a  startling  sight. 
The  fragments  of  White's  Battalion  had  gathered  together 
toward  the  left  of  the  field,  and  were  charging  in  our  rear. 
The  First  Maryland  was  there,  and  Broderick  Avas  shout- 
ing at  them  in  what  their  colonel  considered  a  'very 
nngentlemanly  manner,'  to  move  forward  to  the  charge. 
At  the  same  time  two  fresh  regiments,  the  Eleventh  Vir- 
ginia, and  another,  were  coming  down  on  our  front.  In- 
stead of  dashing  at  White's  men,  the  First  Maryland 
wavered  and  broke,  and  then  we  Avere.  charged  at  the 
same  time  in  front  and  rear.  We  had  to  let  the  guns  go, 
and  gather  together  as  well  as  possible  to  cut  ourselves  out. 
Gallantly  our  fellows  met  the  attack.  We  were  broken, 
of  course,  by  the  mere  weight  of  the  attacking  force, 
but,  breaking  them  up  too,  the  whole  field  was  covered 
with  small  squads  of  fighting  men.  I  saw  Broderick 
ride  in  with  a  cheer,  and  open  a  way  for  the  men.  His 
horse  went  down  in  the  melee ;  but  little  Wood,  the  bu- 
gler of  Company  G,  sprang  down,  and  gave  him  his  ani- 
mal, setting  off  himself  to  catch  another.  A  rebel  rode 
at  the  bugler,  and  succeeded  in  getting  away  his  arms 
before  help  came.  As  Wood  still  went  after  a  horse, 
another  fellow  rode  at  him. 

"The  boy  happened  at  that  moment  to  see  a  carbine 
where  it  had  been  dropped  after  firing.  lie  picked  up 
the  empty  weapon,  aimed  it  at  the  horseman,  made  him 


THE  FIGHT  AT  BRANDT.  307 

dismount,  give  up  his  arms,  and  start  for  the  rear.  Then 
lie  went  in  again.  Lucas,  Hobensack,  Brooks,  and  Beek- 
man,  charged  with  twelve  men  into  White's  Battalion. 
Fighting  hand  to  hand  they  cut  their  way  through,  but 
left  nine  of  the  men  on  the  oround  behind  them.  Huo-lies 
was  left  almost  alone  in  a  crowd,  but  brought  himself  and 
the  men  with  him  safe  through.  Major  Shelmire  waa 
seen  last  lying  across  the  dead  body  of  a  rebel  cavalry- 
man. None  of  us  thought  anything  of  two  to  one  odds, 
as  long  as  we  had  a  chance  to  ride  at  them.  It  was  only 
when  we  got  so  entangled  that  we  had  to  fight  hand  to 
hand  that  their  numbers  told  heavil}'.  It  was  in  such  a 
place  that  I  lost  sight  of  Broderick.  The  troop  horse 
that  he  was  riding  was  not  strong  enough  to  ride  through 
a  knot  of  men,  so  that  he  had  to  fight  them.  He  struck 
one  so  heavily  that  he  was  stunned  by  the  blow,  but  his 
horse  Avas  still  in  the  way;  swerving  to  one  siue,  he  es- 
caped a  blow  from  another,  and,  warding  off  the  thrust 
of  a  third,  managed  to  take  him  with  his  point  across  the 
forehead;  just  as  he  did  so,  however,  his  sabre,  getting 
tangled  with  the  rebel's,  was  jerked  from  his  hand. 

"  He  always  carried  a  pistol  in  his  boot.  Pulling  that 
out,  he  fired  into  the  crowd,  and  put  spurs  to  his  horse. 
The  bullet  hit  a  horse  in  front  of  him,  which  fell.  His 
own  charger  rose  at  it,  but  stumbled,  and  as  it  did  Bro- 
derick himself  fell,  from  a  shot  fired  within  arms'  length 
of  him  and  a  sabre  stroke  upon  his  side. 

"  I  saw  all  this  as  a  man  sees  things  at  such  times,  and 
am  not  positive  even  that  it  all  occurred  as  I  thought  I 
saw  it;  for  I  was  in  the  midst  of  confusion,  and  only 
caught  things  around  by  passing  glimpses.  You  see  I 
was  myself  having  as  much  as  I  could  do.  The  crowd 
with  whom  Broderick  was  engaged  was  a  little  distance 
from  me;  and  I  had  just  wheeled  to  ride  up  to  his  help 
when  two  fellows  put  at  me.  The  first  one  fired  at  me 
and  missed.  Before  he  could  again  cock  his  revolver  I 
succeeded  in  closing  with  him.     My  sabre  took  him  just 


308  THE  FIGHT  AT  BRANDY. 

in  the  neck,  and  must  have  cut  tlie  jugular.  The  "blood 
gushed  out  in  a  black-looking  stream  ;  he  gave  a  horrible 
yell  and  tell  over  the  side  of  his  horse,  which  galloped 
awny.  Then  I  gathered  up  my  reins,  spurred  my  horse, 
and  went  at  the  other  one.  I  was  riding  that  old  black 
horse  that  used  to  belong  to  the  signal  sergeant,  and  it 
was  in  fine  condition.  As  I  drove  in  the  spurs  it  gave  a 
leap  high  in  the  air.  That  plunge  saved  my  life.  The 
rebel  had  a  steady  aim  at  me ;  but  the  ball  went  through 
the  black  horse's  brain.  His  feet  never  touched  ground 
again.  With  a  terrible  convulsive  contraction  of  all  his 
muscles  the  black  turned  over  in  the  air,  and  fell  on  his 
head  and  side  stone  dead,  pitching  me  twenty  feet.  I 
lighted  on  my  pistol,  the  butt  forcing  itself  far  into  my 
side ;  my  sabre  sprung  out  of  my  hand,  and  I  lay,  with 
arms  and  legs  all  abroad,  stretched  out  like  a  dead  man. 
Everybody  had  something  else  to  do  than  to  attend  to 
me,  and  there  I  lay  where  I  had  fallen. 

"  It  seemed  to  me  to  have  been  an  age  before  I  began 
painfully  to  come  to  myself;  but  it  could  not  have  been 
many  minutes.  Every  nerve  was  shaking;  there  was  a 
terrible  pain  in  my  head,  and  a  numbness  through  my 
side  which  was  even  worse.  Fighting  was  still  going  on 
around  me,  and  my  first  impulse  was  to  get  hold  of 
my  sword.  I  crawled  to  it  and  sank  down  as  I  grasped 
it  once  more.  That  was  only  for  a  moment;  for  a 
rebel  soldier  seeing  me  move,  rode  at  me.  The  pre- 
sence of  danger  roused  me,  and  I  managed  to  get  to 
my  horse,  behind  which  I  sank,  resting  my  pistol  on  the 
saddle  and  so  contriving  to  get  an  aim.  As  soon  as  the 
man  saw  that,  he  turned  off  without  attacking  me.  I 
was  now  able  to  stand  and  walk ;  so,  holding  my  pistol 
in  one  hand  and  my  sabre  in  the  other,  I  made  my  way 
across  the  fields  to  where  our  battery  was  posted,  scaring 
some  with  my  pistol  and  shooting  others.  Kobody 
managed  to  hit  me  through  the  whole  fight.  When  I 
got  up  to  the  battery  I  found  Wood  there.     He  sang  out 


THE  FIGHT  AT  BRANDT.  309 

to  me  to  wait  and  he  would  get  me  a  liorse.  One  of  tlie 
men,  who  had  just  taken  one,  was  going  past,  so  Wood 
stopped  him  and  got  it  for  me. 

''Just  at  that  moment  White's  Battalion  and  some  other 
troops  came  charging  at  the  battery.  The  squadron  of 
the  First  Maryland,  who  were  supporting  it,  met  the 
charge  well  as  far  as  their  numbers  went ;  but  were,  of 
course,  flanked  on  both  sides  by  the  heavy  odds.  All 
of  our  men  who  were  free  came  swarming  up  the  hill, 
and  the  cavalry  were  fighting  over  and  around  the  guns. 
In  spite  of  the  confusion,  and  even  while  their  comrades 
at  the  same  piece  were  being  sabred,  the  men  at  that 
battery  kept  to  their  duty.  They  did  not  even  look  up 
or  around,  but  kept  up  their  fire  with  unwavering  steadi- 
ness. There  was  one  rebel,  on  a  splendid  horse,  who 
sabred  three  gunners  while  I  was  chasing  him.  He 
wheeled  in  and  out,  would  dart  away  and  then  come 
sweeping  back  and  cut  down  another  man  in  a  manner 
that  seemed  almost  supernatural.  We  at  last  succeeded 
in  driving  him  away,  but  we  could  not  catch  or  shoot 
him,  and  he  got  off  without  a  scratch. 

"  In  the  meantime  the  fight  was  going  on  elsewhere. 
Kilpatrick's  Brigade  charged  on  our  right.  The  Second 
New  York  did  not  behave  as  well  as  it  has  sometimes 
done  since,  and  the  loss  of  it  weakened  us  a  great  deal. 
The  Tenth  New  York,  though,  went  in  well,  and  the 
First  Maine  did  splendidly,  as  it  always  does.  In  spite 
of  their  superior  numbers  (Stuart  had  a  day  or  two  be- 
fore reviewed  thirty  thousand  cavalry  at  Culpepper,  ac- 
cording to  the  accounts  of  rebel  ofiicers),  we  beat  then-; 
heavilv,  and  would  have  routed  them  completely  if  Duf- 
fie's  Brigade  had  come  up.  He,  however,  was  engaged 
with  two  or  three  hundred  men  on  the  left ;  the  aide-de- 
camp sent  to  him  with  orders  was  wounded  and  taken 
prisoner,  and  he  is  not  the  sort  of  man  to  find  out  the 
critical  point  in  a  fight  of  his  own  accord. 

'•  So  now,  they  bringing  up  still  more  reserves,  and  a 


310  THE  FIGHT  AT  BRANDT. 

whole  division  of  theirs  coming  on  the  field,  we  began  to 
fall  back.     We  had  used  them  up  so  severely  that  they 
could  not  press  us  very  close,  except  in  the  neighborhood 
of  where  the  Second  New  York  charged.     There  some 
of  our  men  had  as  much  as  they  could  do  to  get  out,  and 
the  battery  had  to  leave  three  of  its  guns.     We  formed 
in  the  woods  between  a  quarter  and  half  a  mile  of  the 
field,  another  moved  back  to  cover  the  left  of  Buford, 
who  was  in  retreat   toward   Beverly  Ford.      Hart  and 
Wynkoop  tried  hard  to  cover  the  guns  that  were  lost, 
but  they  had  too  few  men,  and  so  had  to  leave  them. 
The  rebels  were  terribly  punished.     By  their  own  con- 
fession they  lost  three  times  as  many  as  we  did.     In  our 
reo-iment  almost  every  soldier  must  have  settled  his  man. 
Sej-geant  Craig,  of  Company  K,  I  believe,  killed  three. 
Slate,  of  the  same  company,  also  went  above  the  average. 
But  we  lost  terribly.     Sixty  enlisted  men  of  the  First 
Jersey    were    killed,    wounded,    or    missing.      Colonel 
Wyndham  was  wounded,  but    kept   his  saddle;    Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel   Broderick    and    Major    Shelmire   were 
killed ;  Lieutenant  Brooks  was  wounded ;  Captain  Saw- 
yer and  Lieutenant  Crocker  were  taken  prisoners ;  and 
i,  as  you  see,  have  had  to  come  in  at  last  and  refit. 

"I  have  spun  you  a  pretty  long  yarn,  and  you  must 
feel  pretty  tired ;  but  when  the  memory  of  the  fight  comes 
over  me  I  get  almost  as  enthusiastic  and  excited  as  when 
it  was  going  on.  I  am  so  proud  of  the  regiment,  officers, 
and  men,  that  I  am  almost  sorry  for  the  promotion  that 
takes  me  out  of  it.  Of  course,  I  have  had  to  be  egotisti- 
cal, and  tell  you  what  occurred  to  myself,  as  that  was  to 
me  the  most  intensely  interesting ;  but  I  do  not  want  you 
to  fancy  that  I  think  I  did  any  better,  or  fought  any 
harder  than  the  others.  In  fact,'l  know  that  most  of  the 
others  did  a  good  deal  more  than  I  did;  but  not  haying 
seen  it,  of  course  I  could  not  describe  their  share  of  the 
fight  quite  so  well  as  that  which  occurred  in  my  own 
neighborhood  and  to  my  own  person." 


NOT  THE  RIGHT  "SANDERS."  311 


NOT  THE  EIGHT  "SANDEES." 

Prominent  among  those  thronging  the  head-quarters 
of  Brigadier-General  Boyle,  in  the  city  of  Louisville,  one 
morning  in  November,  1862,  might  have  been  noticed 
a  bright,  handsome  woman,  who  seemed  exceedingly 
anxious  for  the  success  of  some  suit  in  which  she  was 
engaged.  Her  dress  and  manner  indicated  that  she 
belonged  to  the  higher  walks  of  life,  but  otherwise  there 
was  nothing  in  her  conduct  or  appearance  by  which  a 
careless  observer  would  distinguish  her  from  the  hun- 
dreds of  others  who  daily  gather  at  the  office  of  the 
commanding  General,  seeking  favors  as  numerous  and 
diverse  as  the  applicants  themselves.  The  practised  eye, 
however,  could  easily  discern  certain  suspicious  circum- 
stances attaching  to  her,  and  suggestive  of  the  idea  that 
beneath  all  this  pleasant  exterior  there  might  be  an  under- 
current of  deceit  and  treachery.  But  her  story  was  plau- 
sible, her  manners  winning,  her  conversation  sprightly 
and  interesting.  The  impression  made  by  her  upon  all 
with  whom  she  came  in  contact  was  in  the  highest  degree 
favorable,  and  it  seemed  both  ungallant  and  unjust  to 
harbor  the  shadow  of  a  suspicion  that  she  was  otherwise 
than  a  high-minded,  honorable  woman,  who  would  scorn 
any  of  the  petty  meannesses  of  such  frequent  occurrence 
within  our  lines. 

It  subsequently  transpired  that  her  name  was  Ford, 
that  her  husband  was  a  Baptist  clergyman — a  man  of 
ability  and  reputation,  formerly  editor  of  a  religious  paper 
in  that  city,  and  now  representative  in  the  Confederate 
Congress  from  that  district  of  Kentucky.  She  herself 
belonged  to  one  of  the  first  families  of  the  city,  and 
moved  in  the  highest  circles  of  an  aristocratic  society. 
To  a  naturally  brilliant  mind,  strengthened  and  polished 
by  a  thorough  education,  were  added  the  ease  and  grace 
of  an  accomplished  Southern  woman     In  the  palmy  day^ 


312  NOT  THE  RIGHT  "SANDERS." 

of  peace  she  had  been  the  centre  of  a  bright  galaxy  of 
wit  and  beauty,  dispensing  to  her  admirers  a  bounteous 
hospitality,  as  genial  as  it  was  welcome.  Now  all  was 
changed.  These  social  gatherings  had  long  been  discon- 
tinued, the  family  circle  was  broken  and  scattered,  her 
husband  was  a  fugitive  from  his  home,  and  she  was  seek- 
ing from  the  Federal  authorities  permission  to  pass  south- 
ward beyond  their  lines  and  join  him  in  his  exile. 

Lounging  about  the  same  head-quarters,  on  the  same 
morning,  with  seemingly  no  particular  business  or  present 
occupation  save  to  watch  the  movements  of  others,  was 
a  quiet-looking  man,  who  now  and  then  cast  sharp,  quick, 
and  stealthy  glances  at  this  Mrs.  Ford,  apparently  regard- 
ing her  with  much  interest.  Presently,  seeing  her  some- 
what apart  from  the  crowd,  he  approached,  and,  in  a 
respectful,  diffident  manner,  engaged  her  in  conversation, 
which  continued  for  some  time,  and,  from  the  animated 
character  it  gradually  assumed,  was  evidently  upon  some 
subject  in  which  both  parties  were  deeply  interested. 
That  it  was  of  a  confidential  and  private  nature  was  easily 
inferred  from  the  caution  maintained  during  its  continu- 
ance. It  seems  that,  after  some  commonplace  talk,  the 
stranger  informed  her  that  he  was  not  what  he  then 
seemed,  but  in  reality  Captain  Denver,  of  the  Confederate 
army,  visiting  Louisville  as  a  spy  upon  the  movements 
of  the  Federal  army  in  that  portion  of  Kentucky. 
Highly  gratified  at  this  intelligence,  the  lady  became 
very  friendl}^,  and  at  once  invited  the  captain  to  visit  her 
house.  Tlie  invitation  so  warmly  given  could  not  be 
declined  without  apparent  rudeness,  and  so  was  accepted, 
but  with,  as  the  lady  thought,  a  rather  unnecessary  and 
suspicious  hesitation. 

Whatever  unwillingness  the  captain  may  have  out- 
wardly exhibited  in  accepting  the  proffered  invitation, 
he  was  not  slow  in  availing  himself  of  its  present  privi- 
leges and  prospective  pleasures.  Calling  soon  afterwarda 
at  the  residence  indicated,  he  was  cordially  received  by 


NOT  THE  RIGHT  "SANDERS."  313 

the  family,  whom  he  found  strong  in  their  sympathy 
with  the  South.  Conversation  naturally  turned  upon  the 
war,  and  by  a  warm  espousal  of  the  Confederate  cause  he 
soon  succeeded  in  ingratiating  himself  into  their  confi- 
dence, and,  by  way  of  showing  his  confidence  in  them, 
revealed  his  intention  of  presently  escaping  through  the 
Federal  lines  to  the  nearest  Confederate  command,  taking 
Avith  him  as  large  an  amount  of  quinine,  morphine,  and 
other  medicines  as  he  could  safely  carry.  Confidence  thus 
implicitly  reposed  in  the  acquaintance  of  but  a  few  hours 
could  not  be  otherwise  than  pleasing  to  the  fair  hostess ; 
and  surely  a  reciprocal  confidence  would  be  little  enough 
expression  of  gratitude  in  return.  It  was  not  safe;  it 
was  not  wise;  but  ''there  can  be  no  harm  in  trusting  so 
true  and  firm  a  Southerner  as  Captain  Denver,"  thought 
Mrs.  Ford. 

It  was  her  purpose,  too,  she  said,  to  smuggle  through 
the  lines  large  quantities  of  medicine,  and  at  the  same 
time  carry  to  the  Confederate  authorities  valuable  in- 
formation of  Federal  movements  and  plans.  Her  hus- 
band was  in  the  South,  and  she  apprehended  no  difiiculty 
in  procuring  a  pass  allowing  her  to  go  to  him,  so  soon 
as  the  circumstances  of  her  case  could  be  brought  to  the 
personal  notice  of  General  Boyle.  The  enterprise  in 
which  both  were  about  to  engage  now  became  the  exclu- 
sive topic  of  a  lengthy  conversation,  in  the  course  of 
which  the  captain  remarked  that  he  had  not  sufficient 
money  to  make  as  extensive  purchases  as  he  wished, 
and  was  desirous  of  assistance  from  the  friends  of  the 
cause  in  Louisville.  Mrs.  Ford  thought  this  need  not 
trouble  him.  She  could  arrange  it  to  his  satisfaction, 
and  appointed  an  interview  for  the  next  morning,  at 
which  she  hoped  to  report  the  complete  success  of  her 
efforts.  The  evening  passed  rapidly,  and  the  captam 
took  his  departure,  leaving  his  entertainers  highly  pleased 
with  him  as  a  valuable  acquaintance  and  colaborer  in  the 
cause  of  the  South. 


314  NOT  THE  RIGHT  "SANDERS." 

The  same  evening  the  captain  chanced  to  meet  in  the 
office  of  the  Gait  House  an  old  friend,  Dr.  Rogers,  surgeon 
on  the  staff"  of  General  Sterling  Price,  a  paroled  prisoner, 
and  then,  by  order  of  General  Rosecrans,  on  his  way  to 
Cairo  to  report  to  General  Tuttle  for  transportation  by 
the  first  boat  to  Vicksburo-.  Accordinti^  to  the  terms  of 
the  cartel  agreed  upon  by  the  Federal  and  Confederate 
authorities,  surgeons  were  held  as  non-combatants  and 
not  subject  to  exchange ;  but  the  doctors,  with  others, 
found  in  the  hospital  at  luka,  had  been  detained  by 
General  Rosecrans,  in  retaliation  for  the  arrest  and  im- 
prisonment by  General  Price  of  certain  Union  soldiers 
in  Mississippi,  and  as  hostages  for  their  return. 

Their  release  had  been  followed  by  his;  and  he  was 
now,  as  stated,  en  route  for  Cairo. 

At  their  meeting  the  next  morning,  Captain  Denver 
mentioned  the  doctor  to  Mrs.  Ford  as  his  friend,  and  an 
intelligent  and  accomplished  gentleman,  with  whom  she 
would  no  doubt  be  highly  pleased,  at  the  same  time  re- 
marking that  he  was  on  his  way  south,  and  it  would  be 
greatly  to  their  advantage  to  go  thither  under  his  protec- 
tion. To  this  she  readily  assented,  and  desired  the  cap- 
tain to  procure  her  an  interview  with  the  doctor.  This 
not  very  difficult  task  was  speedily  accomplished,  and 
the  doctor  called  upon  her  that  evening.  Some  time 
having  passed  in  conversational  pleasantry,  the  doctor 
adverted  to  the  carrying  of  contraband  goods,  and  spoke 
discouragingly  of  its  policy,  saying  that  anything  of  the 
kind  would  be  a  violation  of  his  parole,  and  might  lead 
to  his  arrest  and  imprisonment.  With  apparent  sincerity, 
Mrs.  Ford  promptly  replied  that  though  an  enemy  of  the 
Federal  government,  she  was  an  honorable  enemy,  and 
would  engage  in  no  enterprise  to  which  the  military 
authorities  would  refuse  their  sanction. 

The  doctor  seemed  satisfied,  and  did  not  revert  to  the 
subject,  but,  instead,  imparted  to  her,  in  strict  confidence, 
a  secret  of  the  utmost  importance.     It  will  be  remem- 


NOT  THE  RIGHT  "SANDERS."  315 

bered  that  some  montlis  previous  to  this,  George  N". 
Sanders  had  successfully  escaped  from  the  rebel  States, 
and  made  his  way  to  England  for  the  purpose  of  nego- 
tiating a  Confederate  loan.  High  hopes  of  success,  on  his 
part,  were  entertained,  and  his  return  was  anxiously 
looked  for  by  the  rebels.  Mrs.  Ford,  with  her  whole 
heart  and  soul  in  the  cause,  was  more  sanguine  even  than 
lier  most  sanguine  friends ;  and  imagination  can  scarcely 
conceive  the  bright  colors  with  which  she  painted  the 
future  of  the  embryo  Confederacy.  Who,  then,  shall  de- 
scribe her  surprise  and  joy  when  told  by  the  doctor  that 
their  friend,  Captain  Denver,  was  no  other  than  this  same 
George  N.  Sanders,  Avho  had  eluded  the  guard  at  the 
Suspension  Bridge,  and  was  now  on  his  return  to  the 
Confederate  capital?  She  was  also  informed  that  his 
mission  had  been  completely  successful,  that  the  loan  had 
been  taken  by  the  Rothschilds,  and  that  Sanders  had  in 
possession  the  evidence  and  documents  connected  there- 
with, all  written  in  cipher.  She  was  cautioned  against 
hinting  a  word  of  it  to  anybody,  or  even  intimating  to 
Sanders  that  she  knew  him  in  any  other  character  than 
as  Captain  Denver.  He  would  accompany  them  to 
Vicksburg  in  his  present  disguise,  and,  until  that  point 
was  reached,  safety  required  that  it  should  be  penetrated 
by  no  one,  however  friendly  to  the  South.  The  interests 
at  stake  were  too  vast  to  be  hazarded  by  exposure  to  a 
mischance,  which  a  single  careless  word  might  bring  upon 
them.  In  case,  however,  he  should  be  suspected,  it 
would  be  their  business  to  assist  him  in  the  secretion  of 
his  papers. 

The  arrangements  for  the  journey  were  discussed,  and 
the  suggestion  of  the  doctor  warmly  espoused  by  Mrs. 
Ford.  Her  eyes  sparkled  with  delight  as  she  asked  a 
thousand  questions  about  Sanders ;  how  he  had  managed 
to  escape  the  vigilance  of  the  Federals ;  by  what  means 
he  had  accomplished  his  mission ;  what  was  the  state  of 
feeling  in  Europe,  the  prospects  of  recognition,  and  so 


316  NOT  THE  RIGHT  "SANDERS." 

on.  The  doctor  answered  as  best  he  could,  and  at  length 
took  his  leave  to  make  final  preparations  to  start  tlie 
next  evening.  Passes  were  obtained,  tickets  bought, 
trunks  checked,  berths  secured  in  the  sleeping-car. 
Everything  bade  fair  for  the  successful  termination  of  the 
enterprise.  The  night  was  passed  comfortably  in  sleep, 
from  which  they  were  wakened,  on  arriving  at  Cairo,  to 
find  themselves  under  arrest.  Denver  and  Rogers  were 
indignant,  but  Mrs.  Ford  trembled  like  an  aspen-leaf,  and 
had  the  earth  opened  under  her  feet,  revealing  a  bottom- 
less chasm  in  which  she  must  inevitabl}'^  be  buried  alive, 
she  could  not  have  been  more  astonished  and  horrified. 
She  could  find  neither  tongue  nor  heart  to  utter  a  word 
in  defence,  and  was  led  away  in  silence.  A  personal  ex- 
amination brought  to  light  a  number  of  letters  and  a  large 
quantity  of  quinine  concealed  about  her  clothes.  The 
trunks  were  found  to  contain  similar  contraband  goods, 
and  much  information  of  value  to  the  rebels.  Grieving 
will  not  restore  lost  opportunities,  nor  bring  to  the  sur- 
face sunken  treasures;  else  had  not  the  hopes  of  Mrs. 
Ford  been  thus  ruthlessly  dashed  to  the  ground,  her  let- 
ters and  goods  fallen  into  the  hands  of  her  enemies,  and 
the  riches  of  the  Confederate  loan  taken  to  themselves 
wings  and  flown  away. 

After  a  protracted  investigation  Mrs.  Ford  was  sent 
South — since  which  time  she  has  eno^asred  in  the  business 
of  publishing  a  book  giving  an  account  of  her  expe- 
rience and  treatment  under  Federal  rule.  Captain  Den- 
ver, alias  George  N.  Sanders,  alias  Conklin,  it  is  needless 
to  say,  was  simply  a  member  of  the  detective  police  of 
the  Army  of  the  Cumberland,  and  Dr.  Rogers,  of  Price's 
staff,  also  a  member  of  the  same  corps. 


THE  sharpshooter's  btory.  31  T 


THE  SHAEPSHOOTEE'S  STOET. 

He  was  a  Berdan  marksman.  There  was  nothing 
extraordinary  about  him,  excejjt  his  eye. 

Not  over  thirty,  but  bronzed  and  hardened  by  years 
of  "  lumbering,"  the  furrows  of  his  face  seemed  to  partake 
of  the  rigidity  of  the  muscles  that  swelled  over  his  tall, 
gaunt  form,  as  if  carved  out  of  red  sandstone.  Not  large, 
and  never  wide  open,  it  appeared  to  be  ever  concentrat- 
ing its  focus  for  a  "  bead"  over  his  unerring  rifle.  Light 
gray,  with  small  dark  spots  around  the  iris,  it  resembled 
nothing  that  I  can  think  of  in  the  eye  line  as  much  as 
that  of  a  tiger-striped  cat  I  used  to  have,  only  that  the 
white  was  nearly  white.  You  perceive  that  I  speak  of 
his  eye  in  the  singular.  He  had  but  one — and  that  was 
his  left.  Yet  he  shot  from  the  right  shoulder,  and  never 
missed. 

He  had  a  very  curious  way  of  screwing  his  head  around 
over  the  barrel  of  his  piece,  so  as  to  bring  his  sole  eye  in 
the  proper  line  of  sight,  and  this  peculiarity  had  long  ob- 
tained him  a  nickname  among  his  comrades,  which,  how- 
ever, for  fear  of  oftending  his  sense  of  modesty,  I  decline 
to  mention.     So  I  shall  call  him  Salem. 

A  rebel  rifle  ball  had  wounded  him  in  the  shoulder, 
and  it  was  in  tlie  hospital  that  he  told  me  the  following 
simple  but  characteristic  story. 

As  most  stories  transcribed,  or  supposed  to  be  tran- 
scribed, from  the  lips  of  backwoodsmen  and  other  per- 
sons using  a  peculiar  dialect,  are  written  with  an  effort 
to  give  that  dialect,  I  shall,  if  only  for  novelty's  sake, 
give  Salem's  story,  to  some  extent,  in  ordinary  colloquial 
English. 

"  How  did  you  lose  your  eye  ?"  I  asked  him,  one  morn- 
ing. It  was  the  third  day  after  his  admittance,  and  his 
wound  was  doing  very  well. 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  he,  "  there's  a  story  to  that ;  but  the 


318  THE  sharpshooter's  story. 

■ways  of  Providence  are  miglity  strange,  and  I  guess  I'm 
even  on  that  eye,  if  not  on  other  things." 

"  If  there's  a  story,  Salem,  let's  have  it  by  all  means ; 
I've  nearly  an  hour  to  spare.  So,  unless  you'd  rather 
not  tell  it,  out  with  it  at  once." 

"  Oh,  I've  no  objection,  doctor,"  replied  Salem.  Bui 
he  hesitated  some  time,  nevertheless,  before  he  began,  as 
follows : — 

"  There  was  a  girl  up  to  Maine  that  I  used  to  hanker 
after  wonderful,  five  years  ago.  I  don't  know  but  I  do 
yet,  for  that  matter,"  added  he,  in  an  undertone.  "  When- 
ever I  could  get  down  to  the  village  I  was  yanking  round 
Marm  Glegg's — that  was  Kitty  Glegg's  mother,  and  Kitty 
Avas  the  girl  I  took  to,  doctor. 

'•■  And  Kitty  warn't  unkind  to  me,  neither ;  't  least  until 
Piney  George  come  among  us.  We  called  him  Piney, 
because  he  came  from  Georgia,  where  he'd  been  lumber- 
ing in  the  pines. 

"George  was  a  handsome  chap,  and  his  tongue  was 
double  greased.  I'll  say  that  for  him.  And  so,  to  cut  it 
short,  he  fell  in  love  with  Kitty,  and  '  cut  me  out,'  and  1 
fit  him,  and  licked  him  like  almighty  gosh,  too.  But  it 
was  all  in  a  fair,  square,  stand-up  fight,  and  no  gouging, 
sticking,  biting,  or  other  foul  scrimmaging, 

"  Well,  doctor,  the  fellow  bore  malice,  as  all  them  wild- 
cat Southerners  do,  and  kept  sneaking  round  watching 
me  whenever  I  went  down  to  the  village  (which  warn't 
but  half  a  day's  march  from  the  timber),  for  I  still  went 
to  see  Kitty,  and  she  still  seemed  glad  to  see  me.  But 
the  chief  reason  I  went  was,  because  I  misdoubted,  from 
something  George  said  to  one  of  the  fellows,  that  he  didn't 
mean  all  fair  by  Kitty  no  more  than  he  did  by  me. 

"  Hows'ever,  he  didn't  make  any  motion  towards  play- 
ing any  tricks,  and  so,  after  I'd  warned  Kitty,  and  she'd 
got  mad,  I  stopped  going  down. 

"  And  soon  after,  I  was  taken  down  sick,  and  when  I 
got  up  again  I  was  as  weak  as  a  cat. 


THE  bharpshooter's  stort.  319 

"  The  third  day  after  I  was  up,  I  thought  I'd  go  down 
to  the  village  just  to  see  what  was  going  on,  you  know, 
for  I  felt  wonderful  down  in  spirits  somehow.  Well,  I 
Avent  down,  and  when  I  got  there,  I  couldn't  help  going 
hy  Marm  Glegg's,  and  there  sat  Kitty  in  the  window,  cry- 
ing as  if  her  heart  would  break.  But  as  soon  as  she  saw 
me,  she  jumped  up  and  'shot.'  Well,  doctor,  I  felt  as  if 
something  was  wrong,  and  as  if  I  ought  to  go  in  and  try 
to  find  out  and  set  it  right, 

"But  when  I  went  in,  Marm  Glegg  said  that  Kitty 
wouldn't  see  me,  and  wanted  me  to  go  away.  So  I  went, 
but  I  was  awfully  riled,  and  I  walked  back  toward  camp 
a  gritting  my  teeth,  when,  as  luck  would  have  it,  in  a 
clearin',  about  five  miles  from  camp,  who  should  overtake 
me  but  Piney  George. 

" '  Hold  on,  Salem,'  says  he,  '  I've  got  a  word  to  say  to 
you.' 

"  '  Say  it,  then,'  says  I,  shortly,  for  I  felt  weak  and  tired, 
and  wanted  to  get  on. 

"Tts  just  this,'  says  he:  'You've  been  up  to  Marm 
Glegg's  again  spying  on  Kitty  and  me,  and  making  her 
hide  from  you,  and  I'm  going  to  take  that  and  what's 
past  out  of  your  hide  right  on  the  spot.' 

"  Says  I, '  George,  you  know  what  you  say's  a  lie ;  you 
know  I'm  no  spy ;  you  know  I  loved  Kitty  before  you 
did;  and  if  I  went  up  there  to-day  'twas  because  I  felt 
low-spirited  and  couldn't  help  it.  But  I  know  what  you 
want :  you  want  to  fight  me,  now  I  am  sick,  and  weak, 
and  alone  out  here,  where  the  fellows  can't  interfere. 
But  I  won't  fight,  that's  flat.' 

"  '  You  won't,  you  coward  !'  says  he.  '  No,  you  won't 
now,  when  I've  a  chance  to  win ;  but  you  were  all  fight 
when  I  was  new  here  and  didn't  know  your  run,  and  all 
the  camp  against  me.' 

"  ' That's  another  lie,  George,'  says  I.  'But  what's  the 
use  of  talk ;  you  can't  rile  me,  and  I  won't  fight.' 

"And  I  turned  and  walked  on.     But  doctor — would 


320  THE  sharpshooter's  story. 

you  believe  it? — the  shirking  skunk  come  behind  me 
and  struck  me  a  foul  blow  that  almost  knocked  me  down, 
and  that  was  too  much,  and  I  clinched  him.  But  I  was 
weak  and  dizzy,  and  he  had  me  foul,  and,  doctor,  he 
gouged  out  my  right  eye,  and  thought  he'd  done  for  'em 
both,  and  he  bit  off  ray  little  finger,  and,  finally,  he  left 
me  for  dead,  and  cut. 

"  I  warn't  dead,  however ;  and  after  lying  faint  awhile, 
I  managed  to  crawl  along  to  the  edge  of  the  timber,  where 
I  lay  down  under  a  tree,  and  fell  dead  asleep,  or  into  a 
sort  of  torpor,  as  you  call  it,  from  loss  of  blood  and  tire." 

Salem  had  got  on  so  slowly  that,  at  this  point  of  his 
story,  I  was  obliged  to  leave  him  to  visit  another  ward, 
but  a  rest  did  him  no  harm,  and  when  I  came  back  in  a 
couple  of  hours,  he  started  afresh  without  coaxing. 

"  Doctor,"  said  he,  looking  keenly  into  my  face  with 
his  single  eye,  "doctor,  human  nature  is  mighty  con- 
trary, and  as  to  Providence,  there's  no  understanding  its 
ways  at  all." 

"That  is  quite  a  philosophical  remark,  Salem,"  said  I, 
gravely,  though  with  a  smile  spreading  inwardly  to  the 
verge  of  laughter;  "in  what  connection  did  you  make  it?" 

"  In  connection  with  what  I  did  when  I  got  well,  and 
what  Providence  has  done  since,  doctor.  Now,  see  here. 
When  I  woke  or  come  to,  after  lying  down  under  that 
tree,  I  warn't  there  at  all,  but  snug  in  my  hut  at  camp. 

"  And  when  I  asked  how  I  got  there,  the  boys  said 
two  of  'em  found  me  clean  gone  on  the  edge  of  the  tim- 
ber, four  days  back,  and  carried  me  to  camp,  and  that  I 
had  been  raving  wild,  and  talked  all  sorts  of  stuff'  until 
the  day  before,  when  I  fell  asleep,  and  had  only  just 
woke  up. 

"  I  tried  to  get  up  then,  but  soon  as  I  set  up  my  head 
swam  round,  and  I  had  to  fall  back.  I  was  as  limber  as 
a  wet  rag. 

" '  Where's  Piney  ?'  says  I,  recollecting  all  of  a  sudden. 

" '  We  hain't  seen  him  this  week,'  says  they. 


THE  sharpshooter's  STORY.  321 

"  Then  I  told  'em  how  'twas  he  gouged  me,  and  all 
about  it,  and  two  of  'em  started  for  the  village  right  off. 
But  next  day  they  came  back.  George  had  left  there 
tliree  days  before,  and  Kitty  Glegg  had  gone  with  him, 
and  poor  old  Marm  Glegg  was  at  the  point  of  death. 

"  Now,  doctor,  what  would  you  have  done  if  you'd  have 
been  me?"  asked  Salem,  interrupting  his  tale,  and  again 
fixing  his  eye  on  mine. 

"Well,  Salem,"  said  I,  rather  puzzled,  "1 — I  should 
have  taken  legal  measures  to  punish  the  scoundrel  George, 
and  I  would  have  assisted  Mrs.  Glegg,  if  it  had  been  in 
my  power,  both  to  recover  her  health  and  her  daughter." 

'"  Well,  now,"  responded  the  sharpshooter,  "  didn't  I 
say  human  nature  was  contrary?  That's  what  you'd 
have  done,  and  what  most  folks  perhaps  would.  But  I 
didn't  do  anything  of  the  sort,  you  see,  doctor.  I'll  tell 
you  what  I  did. 

"Just  as  soon  as  I  got  well  enough,  I  shouldered  my 
<raps  and  went  up  to  the  Aroostook,  and  spent  two  years 
learning  to  draw  a  bead  with  my  left  eye,  lumbering  all 
the  while.  Then  I  came  down  to  the  old  place.  Marm 
Glegg  was  dead,  and  nobody  had  heard  anything  of  Kitty 
or  Piney  George. 

"  Then  I  worked  my  way  down  to  York  (New  York), 
where  the  boss  that  owned  the  tract  I'd  been  working  on 
lived.  He'd  been  up  there  that  season  and  I  knew  him, 
for  I  was  a  foreman  that  year.  Well,  he  was  very  kind  to 
nidi  and  through  him  I  got  down  to  Georgia,  and  spent 
a  year  hunting  after  Piney  George  and  Kitty  all  through 
the  timber  workings,  and  pretty  much  all  over  the  State 
— for  I  had  somehow  got  it  fixed  in  my  head  that  Piney 
had  'skedaddled' — that's  the  rebels'  new  word  for  cut 
and  run,  doctor" — parenthesized  Salem,  with  a  twinkle 
in  the  eye — "  down  to  his  native  pines. 

"  But  when  I'd  prospected  a  whole  year  after  him  with- 
out finding  a  hair  of  the  critter,  or  hearing  anything  of 
his  ever  coming  back,  I  thought  Providence  was  against 
21 


322  THE  sharpshooter's  story. 

the  search.  And  as  things  began  to  look  a  little  riley 
down  South  about  that  time,  I  gave  it  up  in  despair,  and 
came  home  to  York,  where  the  boss  gave  me  a  place  in 
his  lumber-yard. 

"But  when  the  darned  rebels  broke  from  Uncle  Sam, 
I  listed,  and  was  off"  with  the  three  months  fellows.  How- 
ever, I  can't  say  that  I  liked  the  musket  drill  much,  and 
BO  I  was  kind  of  glad  when  the  time  was  up.  But  when 
Colonel  Berdan  came  out  with  his  call  for  sharpshooters, 
1  was  on  hand,  doctor,  at  the  first  trial,  and  I  guess  I 
astonished  some  of  'em  Avith  my  screw  bead." 

Here  Salem  stopped  to  indulge  in  a  quiet  chuckle. 
Having  concluded  this,  he  went  on. 

"  Well,  doctor,  I  said  the  ways  of  Providence  were 
past  seeing  through,  didn't  I?  And  the  rest  of  my  story 
proves  it. 

"In  the  course  of  time  we  did  a  small  sprinkling  of 
sharpshooting  as  you  know,  till  we  came  to  Yorktown, 
Well,  there  we  had  rather  a  tough  time  keeping  the  rebel 
guns  from  being  over-crowded,  and  I  guess  they  warn't 
cracked  by  too  much  use !  I  dug  myself  a  snug  little 
shooting  hole  just  alongside  of  a  scrubby  bush,  and  for  a 
day  and  a  night  I  had  a  good  many  of  the  skedaddlers 
drop  to  my  account,  without  my  being  the  least  disturbed. 
But  the  second  morning,  just  after  daybreak,  I  saw  they 
were  going  to  make  another  effort  to  load  the  gun  I'd  been 
'tending  to.  Presently  a  slim  fellow  sneaks  out  along 
the  gun,  and  I  gets  up  a  little  to  draw  a  fair  bead  on  him, 
when  just  as  I  had  him  between  the  shoulders — crack 
goes  a  rifle  nearly  in  front  of  me,  and  a  Minie  ball — 
I  knew  it  by  its  song — left  its  compliments  in  the  bush 
about  three  inches  from  my  right  ear.  I  dropt  the  slim 
chap,  however,  and  took  a  quick  look  as  I  dropt  myself, 
by  which  I  saw  a  third  spirt  of  smoke  just  leaving  a 
small  clump  about  three  hundred  yards  to  the  left  front 
of  my  stand.     Hoi   thinks  I,  there's  a  skedaddle  riflo 


THE  sharpshooter's  STORY.  323 

posted  himself  tbere  last  night ;  111  attend  to  you,  my 
son,  by-and-by." 

My  time  was  now  growing  very  short,  and  Salem  must 
have  remarked  a  slight  symptom  of  impatience  which  I 
could  not  avoid  showing,  because  I  was  quite  interested 
in  his  tale,  and  feared  I  would  have  to  go,  leaving  it  un- 
finished till  next  morning,  for  he  halted  a  moment  and 
then  said — 

"Well,  doctor,  there's  no  use  of  my  telling  you  all  the 
dodges  that  skedaddle  and  I  tried  on  each  other  all  day. 
I  had  hard  work,  for  I  had  to  mind  him  and  the  gun  too. 
However,  I  got  along  pretty  comfortable,  and  had  five 
mean  shots  at  him,  but  only  touched  him  once — and 
didn't  know  it  at  the  time — he  was  so  precious  careful. 

"  He  fired  away  at  me,  though,  about  every  twenty 
minutes,  lead  or  no  lead,  as  I  guessed,  until  nigh  on  to 
evening.  Just  before  sundown — or  rather  just  after  th3 
sun  had  set,  but  when  there  was  still  a  good  light— I  got 
so  eternal  cramped  that  I  was  bound  to  stretch  a  little. 
And  as  the  rebel  just  then  showed  his  muzzle  alongside 
of  his  confounded  gun,  I  rose  a  little  higher  than  usual 
to  get  a  clear  sight  — got  it,  and  would  have  pulled  trigger 
in  another  shake,  when  crack !  went  skedaddle's  rifle 
again,  and  crick  1  went  his  d — d  ball  into  my  shoulder. 

"  It  hurt  so,  doctor,  that  I  couldn't  help  giving  a  kind 
of  screech,  and  at  the  same  moment,  quick  as  lightning, 
an  idea  came  across  me,  and  I  sort  of  leaped  up  and  fell 
back  into  my  pit. 

"  But,  bad  as  I  was,  I  immediately  crawled  up  again, 
and  just  peeked  over.  Sure  enough,  the  fellow  had  bit, 
and  was  sneaking  out  of  his  hole,  to  come  the  Indian  over 
me,  and  my  plunder.  I  tell  you,  doctor,  it  hurt  me  awful 
to  get  my  rifle  up,  and  to  fix  myself  for  a  last  shot;  but 
I  did  it,  and  did  it  in  a  shake  of  time,  too,  so  that  the 
fellow  hadn't  fairly  started  to  snake  over  to  me  before  I 
had  him. 

"It  was  my  crack  this  time,  and  when  I  looked  over 


324  THE  SHARf'SHOOTER's  STORY. 

again,  the  skedaddler  was  as  flat  as  a  leaf,  just  on  tlic 
edge  of  his  hole.  It  didn't  all  take  two  minutes,  doctor, 
I  swear  1 

"But  I  cavorted  myself  right  afterward,  and  lay  for 
an  hour  or  more  like  a  log  before  I  came  too. 

"  When  I  did,  I  took  a  heavy  swig  of  my  canteen,  and 
felt  so  much  stronger  that  I  resolved  to  crawl  over  and 
have  a  look  at  the  skedaddler.  It  was  full  night  now, 
but  not  very  dark.  Dark  enough,  however,  to  make  my 
going  over  of  small  risk. 

"  So  I  took  another  swig,  and  started  on  my  hands  and 
knees. 

"Twice  I  had  to  stop  and  lie  flat  for  a  few  minutes, 
but — doctor,  you'll  hardly  believe  it — but  I  felt  kind  of 
forced,  as  it  were,  to  go  and  look  at  the  fellow,  and  as  if 
something  was  to  come  of  my  looking  at  him." 

"  A  presentiment,  perhap^:,  Salem,"  said  I,  half  in  jest. 

"Maybe,"  answered  Salem,  as  if  he  did  not  exactly 
know  what  a  presentiment  might  be.  "But,  any  how, 
doctor,  I  felt  as  if  I  must  go,  and  I  went,  and  T  looked  at 
him,  and  he  was  stark  dead;  and,  doctor,"  added  Salem, 
with  a  strange  glitter  in  his  one  eye — "  doctor,  as  sure  as 
you  live,  the  fellow  was  Piney  George!" 

Here  I  was  obliged  to  leave  Salem,  for  the  night,  though 
he  said  he  had  something  more  to  tell  me,  Avhich,  I  sur- 
mised, must  be  about  Kitty  Glegg.  However,  I  should 
see  him,  and  did  see  him  in  the  morning. 

When  I  came  to  him,  a  young  female  nurse  was  dress- 
ing iiis  wound.  I  waited  till  she  had  finished,  and  then, 
bidding  her  to  leave  us,  sat  down  to  hear  the  sequel  of 
the  sharpshooter's  story. 

"Doctor,"  began  Salem,  "you  remember  what  I  said 
about  Providence  and  human  nature,  don't  you  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied. 

"  Well,  after  I'd  looked  at  George  for  a  minute  or  two, 
all  my  hate  went  oiY,  somehow,  and  I'd  have  given — I 
don't  know  what,  to  have  had  him  alive  again.     But  of  a 


THE  sharpshooter's  STORY.  325 

sudden  I  tliought  of  Kitty,  and  I  thought  he  might  have 
something  about  him  that  would  tell  me  of  her.  So,  as 
I  lay  by  his  side,  I  felt  in  his  pockets,  and,  sure  enough, 
I  found  a  letter.  I  couldn't  read  it  then,  of  course ;  but 
next  morning,  when  I  was  carried  to  the  hospital,  I  read 
it,  and  it  was  from  Kitty,  and  she  was  on  her  way  to 
Yorktown,  when  it  was  written,  which  was  some  days 
before,  so  that  she  was  probably  there  then.  She  had 
offered  herself  as  a  nurse  to  tend  the  wounded  rebels,  and 
had  been  accepted — but,  from  some  words  in  the  letter, 
I  judged  her  heart  was  with  the  right  cause. 

"  Well,  doctor,  isn't  this  mighty  strange  ?  And  the 
strangest  thing  I  haven't  told  you  yet,  perhaps. 

"  When  the  rebels  evacuated  Yorktown,  they  left  a  few 
of  their  wounded  at  a  small  house  about  half  a  mile  be- 
yond, off  the  road,  and  a  nurse  insisted  on  staying  with 
them — and  that  nurse,  doctor,  was  Kitty ! 

"  And,  doctor,"  continued  Salem,  quite  excitedly,  "  that 
nurse  volunteered  to  enter  our  hospital  in  the  same  bles- 
sed work,  and  she  did  so,  and  fifteen  minutes  ago,  doctor, 
she  was  dressing  this  very  shoulder !" 

"What!"  exclaimed  I,  fjiirly  taken  aback  by  this  cli- 
max, "was  that  Kitty  Glegg?  and  do  you  still  love  her, 
Salem?" 

The  gleam  died  out  of  Salem's  eye,  and  he  shook  his 
head  mournfully,  as  he  replied — 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  how  I  do  feel  about  it,  doctor. 
If  she  was  Kitty  Glegg  now,  I'd  marry  her  in  spite  of 
thunder,  if  she'd  have  me ;  but  I  said  human  nature  was 
contrary,  and — and  she  ain't  Kitty  Glegg,  you  see !" 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  said  I,  quite  mystified ;  "  Kitty 
Glegg,  and  not  Kitty  Glegg  !  Who  in  the  name  of  witch- 
craft is  the  young  woman,  then  ?" 

"  The  young  woman  is  Kitty  Schriver,  the  widow  of 
George  Schriver,  or  Piney  George  !"  answered  poor  Salem, 
very  slowly  and  sadly. 


326  THE  TROSE  OF  BATTLES. 

Then,  after  a  moment's  silence,  looking  up  again,  he 
said — 

"  Well,  doctor,  was  I  not  right  about  Providence  and 
human  nature?" 


THE  PEOSE  OP  BATTLES. 

"  I  would  like  to  see  a  battle,"  said  a  student  to  me  the 
other  day,  "  for  through  the  whole  literature  of  war  I  look 
in  vain  for  a  minute  description  of  any  action." 

We  may  trace  this  deficiency  to  the  disparity  between 
the  writers  and  the  readers  of  war  literature.  Those  who 
witness  and  record  are  military  men,  either  by  profession 
or  education;  their  accounts  lack  circumstantialit}^,  and 
often  simplicity.  They  assume  that  the  reader  has  certain 
elementary  knowledge  of  terms  and  movements,  and  their 
narratives  seem,  therefore,  vague,  general,  and  unsatisfac- 
tory. It  will  not  avail  to  tell  Mr.  Coke,  of  Northumber- 
land, that  the  "fourth  division  outflanked  the  enemy," 
for  Mr.  Coke,  having  passed  the  most  of  his  life  under- 
ground, never  beheld  even  a  militia  training.  A  division, 
to  his  mind,  may  include  twenty  men  or  twenty  thousand 
men,  and  to  outflank  may  intimate  to  ambush  or  to  run 
away. 

Mr.  Phlog,  the  schoolmaster,  reads  in  the  newspapers 
that  a  certain  regiment  marched  up  in  double-quick,  or 
threw  itself  into  a  hollow  square,  or  formed  a  pyramid  to 
repulse  cavalry,  or  rallied  by  fours,  or  deployed  as  skir- 
mishers, or  charged  bayonets.  But  Mr.  Phlog,  though 
an  intelligent  person,  would  like  to  be  told  in  detail  how 
tlie  regiment  deployed,  and  how  the  pyramid  appeared. 
He  has  been  to  but  one  funeral  in  the  course  of  his  life, 
and  never  saw  a  murder  or  a  hanging.  He  wishes,  in 
common  with  the  urchins  whom  he  birches,  to  know 
more  of  the  real  and  the  horrible — how  a  man  falls  out 
of  the  ranks,  what  hues  harden  into  his  dead  face,  how 


THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES.  327 

he  lies  among  tlie  tangled  wretches  on  the  battle-field, 
how  and  by  whom  he  is  buried.  In  fact,  he  wishes  da- 
guerreotypes of  war.  Wheu  the  powder  has  flashed  out 
of  the  sky,  and  the  tableaux  have  fallen  away,  tell  him 
how  the  strewn  plains  would  have  looked  to  him  had  he 
been  there — give  him,  in  a  word,  the  "prose  of  battles.'' 

The  writer  has  followed  some  of  the  bloodiest  cam- 
paigns of  the  American  civil  war  in  a  civil  capacity;  he 
has  witnessed  the  incidents  of  charge,  retreat,  captivity, 
and  massacre  through  the  eyes  of  a  novice,  and  some  of 
his  reminiscences  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  the  less 
experienced. 

The  "  first  death"  which  I  recall  among  my  most  vivid 
remembrances  happened  on  the  Chickahominy  River, 
during  McClellan's  famous  peninsular  campaign.  The 
Federal  army  lay  along  the  high  hills  on  the  north  side 
of  the  stream,  and  the  Confederates  upon  the  hills  of  the 
other  side.  The  pickets  of  the  latter  reached  almost  to 
the  brink,  and  the  Federals  wei"e  busily  engaged  in  erect- 
ing bridges  at  various  points.  I  was  standing  at  New 
Bridge  one  day,  watching  the  operations  of  the  soldiery, 
when  General  Z.  rode  down  through  the  meadow  to  ex- 
amine the  work,  A  guard  held  the  Richmond  bank  of 
the  creek,  access  being  obtained  to  them  by  a  series  of 
rafts  or  buoys;  but  the  guard  could  go  only  a  little  way 
from  the  margin,  for  some  sharpshooters  lay  behind  a 
knoll,  and  had,  up  to  this  time,  mortally  wounded  every 
adventurer.  The  general  reined  his  horse  on  the  safe 
side  of  the  river,  and  called  briefly  "  Major!" 

A  young  flaxen-haired,  florid  man,  with  a  gold  leaf  in 
his  shoulder-bar,  stepped  out,  saluted,  and  paid  respectful 
attention. 

"General?" 

"  Is  that  your  picket  ?"  pointing  to  the  group  on  the 
opposite  bank. 

"Yes,  general." 

"No  more  men  bevond  the  knoll  and  bush?" 


328  THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES. 

'"'  No,  general ;  it  is  dangerous.  The  enemy  is  there 
in  force." 

"  Do  you  knov:  their  force  ?" 

"No,  general." 

"  Call  one  of  your  men," 

"Parks!" 

A  little  bullet-headed  fellow,  whose  legs  were  mnddy 
to  the  thighs,  and  who  was  driving  a  round  log  to  it3 
place  in  the  roadway,  dropped  Lis  mallet  at  once  ;  swung 
Bmartly  round,  as  on  a  pivot,  and  saluted. 

"  Go  cautiously  up  the  bank,"  said  the  general,  "  you 
see  it  there;  draw  fire  if  you  can;  but  if  there  be  no 
response,  you  will  shout  to  provoke  it." 

I  saw  the  knot  in  the  soldier's  throat  rise  slowly,  as  if 
propelled  by  his  heart ;  a  little  quiver  came  to  his  lips, 
and  he  looked  half  inquiringly  to  his  major.  In  a  mo- 
ment he  recovered,  tapped  his  cap  lightly,  and  leaping 
from  buoy  to  buoy,  reached  the  guard-post,  ran  up  the 
hill,  passed  the  knoll,  and  stood  with  his  head  and  shoul- 
ders in  full  view,  but  his  extremities  and  trunk  behind 
the  ridge.  "We  all  watched  solicitously  and  in  dead 
silence. 

"  Shout !  my  man,"  cried  the  general — "  shout !  shout !" 

The  hands  of  the  soldier  went  up ;  he  swung  his  cap, 
and  called  shrilly  :  "  Hurrah  for  General  McClellan  and 
the  U' 

A  volley  of  musketry  blazed  from  the  timber  beyond, 
and  the  man  flung  up  his  arms  and  disappeared.  With 
a  yell  of  revenge,  the  guard  broke  from  the  margin,  dis- 
charged their  muskets  into  the  ambuscade,  and  directly 
returned,  bearing  the  little  fellow  with  the  bullet-head ; 
but  the  mud  on  his  trousers  was  turning  red,  and  blood 
dripped  in  a  rill  from  his  mouth  and  chin.  The  young 
major's  florid  face  grew  pale,  he  shut  his  lips  tightly ; 
and  the  soldiers,  a  little  apart,  swore  through  their  teeth. 

"I  am  sOrry  he  got  his  billet,"  said  the  general ;  "but 
"he  died  fulfilling  orders,  and  he  was  a  brave  man." 


THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES.  329 

I  wondered  as  he  rode  away,  attended  by  his  dashing 
staff,  if  any  more  such  brave  men  had  died,  or  were  to 
die,  fulfilling  such  orders. 

A  dreadful  opportunity  occurred,  after  the  battle  of 
Hanover  Court  House,  to  look  upon  wholesale  massacre. 
The  wounded  of  both  sides  had  been  haul(^d  from  the  dis- 
tant field  to  the  encampments  of  the  army,  and  were 
quartered  in  and  around  some  old  Virginian  dwellings. 
All  the  cow-houses,  wagon-sheds,  hay-barracks,  hen-coops, 
negro  cabins,  and  barns  had  been  turned  into  hospitals. 
The  floors  were  littered  with  corn-shucks  and  fodder,  and 
the  maimed,  gashed,  and  d3nng  lay  confusedly  together. 
A  few,  slightly  wounded,  related  incidents  of  the  battle 
through  the  windows ;  but  sentries  stood  at  the  doors 
with  crossed  m.uskets,  to  keep  out  idlers  and  gossips. 
The  mention  of  my  vocation  was  an  open  sesame,  and  I 
went  unrestrained  into  all  the  larger  hospitals.  In  the 
first  of  these,  an  amputation  was  being  performed,  and  at 
the  door  lay  a  little  heap  of  human  limbs.  I  shall  not 
soon  forget  the  bare-armed  surgeons,  with  bloody  instru- 
ments, who  leaned  over  the  rigid  and  insensible  figure, 
while  the  comrades  of  the  subject  looked  on  horror-struck 
at  the  scene.  The  grating  of  the  murderous  saw  drove 
me  into  the  open  air,  but  in  the  second  hospital  which  I 
visited,  a  wounded  man  had  just  expired,  and  I  encount- 
ered his  body  at  the  threshold.  The  lanterns  hanging 
around  the  room  within  streamed  fitfully  upon  the  red 
eyes  and  half-naked  figures.  All  were  looking  up,  and 
saying  in  a  pleading  monotone:  "Is  that  you,  doctor?" 
Men,  with  their  arms  in  slings,  went  restlessly  up  and 
down,  smarting  with  fever.  Those  who  were  wounded 
in  the  lower  extremities,  body,  or  head,  lay  upon  their 
backs,  tossing  even  in  sleep.  They  listened  peevishly  to 
the  wind  whistling  through  the  chinks  of  the  barn ;  they 
followed  one  with  their  rolling  eyes ;  they  turned  away 
from  the  lantern  glare,  which  seemed  to  sear  them. 

Soldiers  sat  by  the  severely  wounded,  laving  their  sores 


330  THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES. 

with  water.  In  many  wounds  the  balls  still  remained, 
and  the  flesh  was  swollen  and  discolored.  There  were 
some  who  had  been  shot  in  the  bowels,  and  now  and 
then  these  poor  fellows  were  frightfully  convulsed,  break- 
ing into  shrieks  and  shouts,  some  of  them  iterated  a  single 
word,  as  "Doctor!"  or  "Help!"  or  "God!"  or  "Oh!" 
commencing  with  a  loud,  spasmodic  cry,  and  continuing 
the  same  word  till  it  died  away  in  sighs.  The  act  of  call- 
ing seemed  to  lull  the  pain.  Many  were  unconscious  or 
lethargic,  moving  their  fingers  and  lips  mechanically, 
but  never  more  to  open  their  ej^es  upon  the  light — they 
were  already  going  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow.  I 
think  still,  with  a  shudder,  of  the  faces  of  those  who  were 
toLl  mercifully  that  they  could  not  live — the  unutterable 
agon}"- ;  the  plea  for  somebody  on  whom  to  call ;  the  long- 
ing eyes  that  poured  out  prayers ;  the  looking  on  mortal 
as  if  its  resources  were  infinite ;  the  fearful  looking  to 
the  immortal,  as  if  it  were  so  far  off,  so  implacable,  that 
the  dying  appeal  would  be  in  vain ;  the  open  lips  through 
which  one  could  almost  look  at  the  quaking  heart  below; 
the  ghastliness  of  brow,  and  tangled  hair;  the  closing 
pangs — the  awful  rest  at  last !  I  thought  of  Parrhasiua 
in  the  poem,  as  I  looked  at  these  things : — 

"  Gods ! 
Could  I  but  paint  a  dying  groan !" 

And  how  the  keen  eye  of  West  would  have  turned  from 
the  reeking  cockpit  of  the  Yidory,  or  the  tomb  of  the 
dead  man  restored,  to  this  old  barn  peopled  with  horrors. 
I  rambled  in  and  out,  learning  to  look  at  death,  studying 
the  manifestations  of  pain,  quivering  and  sickening  at 
times,  but  plying  my  vocation,  and  jotting  names  for  my 
column  of  mortalities. 

At  eleven  o'clock  there  was  music  along  the  highroad, 
and  a  general  rushing  out  of  camp  ensued.  The  victo- 
rious regiments  were  returning  from  Hanover,  under  es- 
cort, and  all  the  bands  were  pealing  national  airs.     Aa 


THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES.  331 

they  turned  down  tlie  fields  toward  their  old  encamp- 
ments, several  brigades  stood  under  arms  to  welcome 
them,  and  the  cheers  were  many  and  vigorous.  But  the 
solemn  ambulances  still  followed  after,  and  the  red  flag 
of  the  hospitals  flaunted  bloodily  in  the  blue  midnight. 

Between  midnight  and  morning  the  wounded  were  re- 
moved to  White  House,  on  the  River  Pamunkey,  where 
they  were  forwarded  by  steamers  to  northern  cities.  I 
rode  down  with  my  dispatches  in  an  ambulance  that  con- 
tained six  M^ounded  men  besides.  Ambulances,  it  may 
be  said  incidentally,  are  either  two-wheeled  or  four- 
wheeled.  Two-wheeled  ambulances  are  commonly  called 
"hop,  step,  and  jumps."  They  are  so  constructed  that 
the  forepart  lies  either  very  high  or  very  low,  and  may 
be  both  at  intervals.  The  wounded  occupants  may  thus 
be  compelled  to  ride  for  hours  with  their  heels  elevated 
above  tlieir  heads,  and  may  finally  be  shaken  out,  or 
have  their  bones  broken  by  the  terrible  jolting.  The 
four-wheeled  ambulances  are  built  in  shelves  or  compart- 
ments, but  the  wounded  are  in  danger  of  suffocation  in 
them. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  latter  that  I  rode,  sitting  with  the 
driver.  We  had  four  horses,  but  were  thrice  "  swamped" 
on  the  road,  and  had  once  to  take  out  the  wounded  men 
till  we  could  start  the  wheels.  Two  of  these  were  wounded 
in  the  face,  one  of  them  having  an  ear  severed,  and  the 
other  having  a  fragment  of  his  jaw  knocked  out.  A  third 
had  received  a  ball  among  the  thews  and  muscles  behind 
his  knee,  and  his  whole  body  seemed  to  be  paralyzed. 
Two  were  wounded  in  the  shoulders,  and  a  sixth  was 
shot  in  the  breast.  The  last  was  believed  to  be  injured 
internally,  as  he  spat  blood,  and  suffered  almost  the  pangs 
of  death.  The  ride  with  these  men,  over  twenty  miles 
of  hilly,  woody  country,  was  like  Dante's  excursion  into 
the  Shades.  In  the  awful  stillness  of  the  dark  pines,  their 
screams  frightened  the  hooting  owls,  and  put  to  silence 
the  whirring  insects  in  the  leaves  and  tree-tops.     They 


sj2  the  prose  op  battles. 

heard  the  gurgle  of  the  rills,  and  called  aloud  for  water 
to  qaench  their  insatiate  tliirst.  One  of  them  sang  a 
shrill  fiendish  ballad,  in  an  interval  of  relief,  but  plunged 
on  a  sudden  relapse  into  prayers  and  curses.  We  heard 
them  groaning  to  themselves  as  we  sat  in  front,  and  one 
man,  it  seemed,  was  quite  out  ot  his  mind.  These  were 
the  outward  manifestations ;  but  what  cords  trembled 
and  smarted  within,  what  regrets  for  good  resolves  unful- 
filled, and  remorses  for  years  misspent,  made  hideous  those 
sore  and  panting  hearts  ?  The  moonlight  pierced  through 
the  thick  foliage  of  the  wood,  and  streamed  into  our  faces, 
like  invitations  to  a  better  life.  But  the  crippled  and 
bleeding  could  not  see  or  feel  it,  buried  in  the  shelves 
of  the  ambulance. 

During  the  heat  of  action  at  Gaines'  Mill  I  crossed 
Grape  Vine  Bridge,  and  remarked  incidents  scarcely  less 
terrible.  At  every  step  of  my  progress  I  met  wounded 
persons.  A  horseman  rode  past  me,  leaning  over  the 
pommel  of  his  saddle,  with  blood  streaming  from  his 
mouth,  and  hanging  in  gouts  from  his  saturated  beard. 
The  day  had  been  intensely  hot,  and  black  boys  were 
besetting  the  wounded  with  buckets  of  cool  lemonade. 
It  was  a  common  occurrence  for  the  couples  that  carried 
the  wounded  in  "  stretchers"  to  stop  on  the  way,  pur- 
chase a  glass  of  the  beverage,  and  drink  it  with  gory 
hands.  Sometimes  the  blankets  on  the  stretchers  were 
closely  folded,  and  then  I  knew  that  the  man  was  dead. 
A  little  fellow  who  used  his  sword  for  a  cane  stopped 
me  on  the  road  and  said  :  "  See  yer !  This  is  the  ball 
that  just  fell  out  o'  my  leg." 

He  handed  me  a  lump  of  lead  as  big  as  my  thumb,  and 
pointed  to  a  rent  in  his  pantaloons,  whence  the  drops 
rolled  down  his  boots. 

"I  wouldn't  part  with  that  for  suthin'  handsome,"  he 
Raid :  "it  will  be  nice  to  hev  to  hum." 

As  I  cantered  away  he  shouted  after  ine:  "Be  sur© 


THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES.  833 

you  spell  my  name  right  I  It's  Smith  with  an  e — 
S-m-i-t-h-e." 

In  one  place  I  met  five  drunken  men  escorting  a 
wounded  sergeant.  Tliis  man  had  been  shot  in  the  jaw, 
and  when  he  attempted  to  speak,  the  blood  choked  his 
gesticulation.    ' 

"  You  le'  go,  pardner  I"  said  one  of  the  staggering 
brutes — "  he's  not  your  sergeant.     Go  'way." 

"  Now,  sergeant !"  said  the  other  idiotically  ;  "  I'll  see 
you  all  right,  sergeant  I  Come,  Bill  I  fetch  him  over  to 
the  corn-crib,  and  we'll  give  him  a  drink." 

Here  the  first  speaker  struck  the  second,  and  the  ser- 
geant in  wrath  Jcnocked  them  both  down.  At  this  time 
the  enemy's  cannon  were  booming  close  at  hand. 

I  came  to  an  officer  of  rank,  whose  shoulder  emblem  I 
could  not  distinguish,  riding  upon  a  limping  field-horse. 
Four  men  held  him  to  his  seat,  and  a  fifth  led  the  animal. 
The  officer  was  evidently  wounded,  though  he  did  not 
seem  to  be  bleeding,  and  the  dust  of  battle  had  settled 
upon  his  blanched,  stifiening  face  like  grave-mould  upon 
a  corpse.  He  was  swaying  in  the  saddle,  and  his  hair — 
for  he  was  bareheaded — shook  across  his  eyeballs.  He 
reminded  me  of  the  famous  Cid,  whose  body  was  sent 
forth  to  scare  the  Saracens.  A  mile  or  more  from  Grape 
Vine  Bridge,  on  a  hill  top,  lay  a  frame  farm-house,  with 
cherry-trees  encircling  it,  and  along  the  declivity  were 
some  cabins  and  corn-bins.  The  house  was  now  a  sur- 
geon's head-quarters,  and  the  wounded  lay  in  the  yard 
and  lane,  under  the  shade,  waiting  their  turns  to  be 
hacked  and  maimed.  Some  curious  people  were  peeping 
through  the  windows  at  the  operations.  As  processions 
of  freshly  wounded  went  by,  the  poor  fellows,  lying  on 
their  backs,  looked  mutely  at  me,  and  their  great  eyee 
smote  my  heart. 

After  the  carnage  of  Fair  Oaks,  I  visited  the  field,  and 
by  the  courtesy  of  the  Irish  American.  General  Meagher, 
was  shown  the  relics  of  the  battle.     This  engagement,  it 


834  THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES. 

^vi\\  be  remembered,  occurred  in  what  is  called  tLe 
Chickahominy  Swamp,  and  it  was  fought,  mainly,  in 
some  thickets  and  fields,  along  the  York  River  Eailroad. 
I  visited  first  a  cottage  and  some  barns  beside  the  track. 
The  house  was  occupied  by  some  thirty  wounded 
Federals;  they  lay  in  their  blankets  upon  the  floors — 
pale,  helpless,  hollow-eyed — making  h)W  moans  at  every 
breath.  Two  or  three  were  feverishly  sleeping,  and  as 
the  flies  revelled  upon  their  gashes,  they  stirred  uneasily, 
and  moved  their  hands  to  and  I'ro.  By  the  flatness  of  the 
covering  over  the  extremities,  I  could  see  that  several 
had  only  stumps  of  legs.  They  had  lost  the  sweet  enjoy- 
ment of  walking  afield,  and  were  but  fragments  of  men, 
to  limp  forever  through  a  painful  life.  Such  wrecks  of 
power  I  never  beheld.  Broad,  brawny,  buoyant,  a  few 
hours  ago,  the  nervous  shock  and  the  loss  of  blood  attend- 
ant upon  amputation  had  well  nigh  drained  them  to  the 
last  drop.  Their  faces  were  as  white  as  the  tidy  ceiling; 
they  were  whining  like  babes ;  and  only  their  rolling  eyes 
distinguished  them  from  mutilated  corpses. 

Some  seemed  quite  broken  in  spirit;  and  one  who 
would  speak,  observing  my  pitiful  glances  towards  his 
severed  thigh,  drew  up  his  mouth  and  chin,  and  wept,  as 
if,  with  the  loss  of  comeliness,  all  his  ambitions  were  frus- 
trated. A  few  attendants  were  brushing  off  the  insects 
with  boughs  of  cedar,  laving  the  sores,  or  administering 
cooling  draughts.  The  second  story  of  the  dwelling  was 
likewise  occupied  by  the  wounded;  but  in  a  corner 
clustered  the  terrified  farmer  and  his  family,  vainly  at- 
tempting to  turn  their  eyes  from  the  horrible  spectacle. 
The  farmer's  wife  had  a  baby  at  her  breast,  and  its  little 
blue  eyes  were  straying  over  the  room,  half  wonderingly, 
half  delightedly.  I  thought  with  a  shudder  of  babyhood 
thus  surrounded,  and  how,  in  the  long  future,  its  first 
recollections  of  existence  should  be  of  booming  guns  and 
dying  soldiers. 

The   cow-shed   contained  seven  corpses,  scarcely  yet 


THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES.  335 

cold,  lying  upon  their  backs  in  a  row,  and  fast  losing  all 
resemblance  to  man.  Tlie  furthest  removed  seemed  to 
be  a  diminutive  boy ;  and  I  thought,  if  he  had  a  mother, 
that  she  might  some  time  like  to  speak  with  me.  Beyond 
my  record  of  the  names  of  these,  falsely  spelled,  perhaps, 
they  would  have  no  history.  And  people  call  such  deaths 
glorious !  Upon  a  pile  of  lumber  and  some  heaps  of 
fence  rails  close  by,  sat  some  dozens  of  wounded  men, 
mainly  Federals,  with  bandaged  arms  and  faces,  and  torn 
clothing.  There  was  one,  shot  in  the  foot,  who  howled 
at  every  effort  to  remove  his  boot ;  the  blood  leaked  from 
a  rent  in  the  side,  and  at  last  the  leather  was  cut  piece- 
meal from  the  flesh.  They  ate  voraciously,  though  in 
pain  and  fear,  for  a  little  soup  and  meat  were  being  doled 
out  to  them. 

The  most  touching  of  all  these  scenes  was  presented 
in  the  stable  or  barn  on  the  premises,  where  a  bare,  dingy 
floor — the  planks  of  which  tilted  and  shook  as  one  made 
his  way  over  them — was  strewn  with  suffering  people. 
Just  at  the  entrance  sat  a  boy,  totally  blind,  both  eyes 
having  been  torn  out  by  a  Minie  ball.  He  crouched 
against  the  gable  in  darkness  and  agony,  tremulously 
fingering  his  knees.  Near  at  hand  sat  another,  who  had 
been  shot  through  the  middle  of  the  forehead,  but,  singu- 
lar to  relate,  he  still  lived,  though  lunatic,  and  evidently 
beyond  hope.  Death  had  drawn  blue  and  yellow  circles 
beneath  his  eyes,  and  he  incomprehensibly  wagged  his 
head.  Two  men,  perfectly  naked,  lay  in  the  middle  of 
the  place,  wounded  in  bowels  and  loins ;  and  at  a  niche 
in  the  weather-boarding,  where  some  pale  light  peeped 
in,  four  mutilated  wretches  were  gaming  with  cards. 

I  was  now  led  a  little  way  down  the  railway  to  see  the 
Confederates.  The  rain  began  to  fall  at  this  time,  and 
the  poor  fellows  shut  their  eyes  to  avoid  the  pelting  of 
the  drops,  ^''here  was  no  shelter  for  them  within  a  mile, 
and  the  mud  absolutely  reached  half-way  up  their  bodies. 
Nearly  one-third  had  suffered  amputation  above  the  knee. 


336  THE  PROSE  OF  BATTIiE*. 

There  were  about  thirty  at  this  spot;  but  owing  to  the 
destruction  of  the  Chickahorainy  bridges,  by  reason  of  a 
freshet,  they  could  not  at  present  be  removed  to  White 
House.  Some  of  them  were  fine,  athletic,  vigorous  fel- 
lows, and  attention  was  called  to  one  who  had  been  mar- 
ried only  three  days  before. 

"  Doctor,"  said  one  feebly,  '  I  feel  very  cold.  Do  you 
think  that  this  is  death  ?  It  seems  to  be  creeping  to  my 
heart.  I  have  no  feeling  in  my  feet,  and  my  thighs  are 
benumbed." 

A  Federal  soldier  came  along  with  a  bucket  of  soup, 
and  proceeded  to  fill  the  canteens  and  plates.  He  ap- 
peared to  be  a  relative  of  Mark  Tapley,  and  possessed 
much  of  that  estimable  person's  jollity. 

"Come,  pardner,"  he  said,  "drink  up  yer  soup.  Now, 
old  boy,  this  '11  warm  ye ;  sock  it  down,  and  ye'U  soon 
see  yer  sweetheart.  You  dead,  AUybamy?  Go  way, 
now  !  You'll  live  a  hundred  years  —  vou  will,  that's  what 
yer  '11  do.  Won't  he,  lad?  What"!  Not  any?  Get 
out !  You'll  be  slap  on  yer  legs  next  week,  and  hev  an- 
other shot  at  me  the  week  ar'ter  that.  You  with  the 
butternut  trousers !  Sa-ay !  Wake  up,  and  take  some 
o'  this.     Hillo,  lad  !  pardner,  wake  up  !" 

He  stirred  him  gently  with  his  foot;  he  bent  down  to 
touch  his  face — a  grimness  came  over  his  merriment ;  the 
man  was  stiff  and  dumb. 

Colonel  Baker,  of  the  88th  New  York,  a  tall,  martial 
Irishman,  took  me  into  the  woods  where  some  of  the  slain 
still  remained.  We  had  proceeded  but  a  very  little  way, 
when  we  came  up  to  a  trodden  place  beneath  the  pines, . 
where  a  scalp  lay  in  the  leaves,  and  the  imprint  of  a 
body  was  plainly  visible.  The  bayonet  scabbard  lay  on 
one  side,  the  canteen  at  the  other.  We  saw  no  corpses, 
however,  as  fatigue-parties  had  been  interring  the  slain, 
and  the  woods  were  dotted  with  heaps  of  clay,  where  the 
dead  slept  below  in  the  oozy  trenches.  Quantities  of 
cartridges  were  scattered  here  and  there,  dropped  by  the 


THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES.  33 T 

retreating  Confederates.  Some  of  the  cartriclge-pouehefi 
that  I  examined  were  completely  filled,  showing  that  tha 
possessors  had  not  fired  a  single  round;  others  had  but 
one  cartridge  missing.  There  were  fragments  of  clothing 
hair,  blankets,  murderous  bowie  and  dirk  knives,  spurs, 
flasks,  caps,  and  plumes,  dropped  all  the  way  through  the 
thicket,  and  the  trees  on  every  side  were  riddled  with, 
balls. 

1  came  upon  a  squirrel,  unwittingly  shot  during  the 
fight;  not  only  those  who  make  the  war  must  feel  the 
war !  At  one  of  the  mounds  the  burying  party  had  just 
completed  their  work,  and  the  men  were  throwing  the 
last  clods  upon  the  remains.  They  had  dug  pits  of  not 
more  than  two  feet  in  depth,  and  dragged  the  bodies 
heedlessly  to  the  edges,  whence  they  were  toppled  down, 
and  scantily  covered  with  earth.  Much  of  the  interring 
had  been  done  by  night,  and  the  flare  of  lanterns  upon 
the  discolored  faces  and  dead  e3^es  must  have  been  hide- 
ously effective.  The  grave-diggers,  however,  were  prac- 
tical personages,  and  had  probably  little  care  for  dramatic 
effects.  They  leaned  upon  their  spades  when  the  rites  were 
finished,  and  a  large,  repulsive  looking  person,  who  ap- 
peared to  be  privileged  on  all  occat?ions,  said,  grinningly : 
"  Colonel,  your  honor,  them  boys  '11  never  stand  forninst 
the  Ii'ish  brigade  again.  If  they'd  ha'  known  it  was  us, 
sir,  begorra!  they'd  ha'  brought  cofl&ns  wid  'em," 

"No,  nivir!  They  got  their  ticket  for  soup!  We 
kivered  thim,  fait,  will  inough !"  shouted  the  other  grave- 
diggers, 

"Do  ye  belave,  colonel,"  said  the  first  speaker  again, 
"that  tiiim  ribals  '11  lave  us  a  chance  to  catch  them? 
Be  me  sowl !  I'm  jisfc  wishing  to  war-rum  me  hands  wid 
rifle-practice." 

The  memorable  retreat  from  the  Chickahominy  to  the 

James,  whereby  McClellan  saved  the  relic  of  his  distressed 

and  beaten  army,  was  a  series  of  horrors,  which  the  limits 

of  this  article  will  not  allow  me  to  recapitulate.    A  sketch 

22 


33S  THE  PROSE  OP  BATTLEg. 

of  the  opening  of  the  battle  of  White  Oak  will  answer 
for  the  present.  On  the  night  of  the  29th  of  June,  1SG2, 
I  went  to  sleep  on  the  brow  of  one  of  the  hills  forming 
the  south  bank  of  White  Oak  Creek.  The  Federal  army 
had  crossed  over  during  the  night,  and  the  bridge  .and 
causeway  through  the  swamp  had  been  destroyed  behind 
them.  A  crash  and  a  stunning  shock,  as  of  a  falling 
sphere,  aroused  me  at  nine  o'clock — a  shell  had  burst  in 
front  of  my  tent,  and  the  Confederate  artillery  was  thun- 
dering from  Casey's  old  hill  beyond  the  swamp.  As  I 
hastily  drew  on  my  boots,  for  I  had  not  otherwise  un- 
dressed, I  had  opportunity  to  remark  one  of  those  unac- 
countable panics  which  develop  among  civilian  soldiers. 

The  camps  were  plunged  into  disorder.  As  the  shells 
dropped  here  and  there  among  the  tents  and  teams,  the 
wildest  and  most  fearful  deeds  were  enacted.  Here,  a 
caisson  blew  up,  tearing  the  horses  to  pieces,  and  whirl- 
ing a  cannonier  among  the  clouds;  there  an  ammunition 
wagon  exploded,  and  the  air  seemed  to  be  full  of  frag- 
ments of  wood,  iron,  and  flesh.  A  boy  stood  at  one  of 
the  fires  combing  out  his  matted  hair;  suddenly,  his 
head  flew  oft',  spattering  the  brains;  and  the  shell,  which 
I  could  not  see,  exploded  in  a  piece  of  wood,  mutilating 
the  trees.  The  elYect  upon  the  people  around  me  was 
instantaneous  and  appalHng.  Some  that  were  partially 
dressed  took  to  their  heels,  hugging  a  medley  of  clothing. 
The  teamsters  climbed  into  the  saddles,  and  shouted  to 
their  nags,  whipping  them  the  while.  If  the  heavy 
wheels  hesitated  to  revolve,  they  left  vehicles  and  horses 
to  their  fates,  cut  traces  and  harness,  galloping  away  like 
madmen.  In  a  twinkling,  our  camps  were  alive  with 
fugitives,  pushing,  swearing,  falling  and  tumbling,  while 
the  fierce  bolts  fell  monotonously  among  them,  making 
havoc  at  every  rod. 

To  join  this  flying,  dying  mass,  was  my  first  impulse ; 
but  after  thought  reminded  me  that  it  Avould  be  better 
to  remain.     I  must  not  leave  my  horse,  for  I  could  not 


THE  PROSE  OF  BATTLES.  339 

walk  the  whole  long  way  to  the  James,  and  the  swamp 
fever  had  so  reduced  me,  that  I  hardly  cared  to  keep  the 
little  life  remaining.  I  almost  marvelled  at  my  coolne.^s, 
since,  in  the  fulness  of  strength  and  health,  I  might  have 
been  the  first  of  the  fugitives ;  whereas,  I  now  looked 
interestingly  upon  the  exciting  spectacle,  and  wished  that 
it  could  be  daguerreotyped.  Before  our  artillery  could 
be  brought  to  play,  the  enemy,  emboldened  by  success, 
])ushed  a  column  of  infixntry  down  the  hill,  to  cross  the 
creek,  and  engage  us  on  our  camping  ground.  For  a 
time.  I  believed  that  he  would  be  successful;  and  in  that 
event,  confusion  and  ruin  would  have  overtaken  the 
Unionists.  The  gray  and  butternut  lines  appeared  over 
the  brow  of  the  hill ;  wound  at  double  quick  through  the 
narrow  defile  ;  they  poured  a  volley  into  our  camps  when 
half-way  down,  and  under  cover  of  the  smoke,  they  dashed 
forward  impetuously  with  a  loud  huzza.  The  artillery 
beyond  tliem  kept  up  a  steady  fire,  raining  shell,  grape 
and  canister  over  their  heads,  and  ploughing  the  ground 
on  our  side  into  zi<2;zasr  farrows,  rendina;  tlie  trees,  shat- 
tering  the  ambulances,  tearing  the  tents  to  tatters,  slay- 
ing the  horses,  butchering  the  men.  Directly,  a  ca])tain 
named  !Mott  bi-ought  his  battery  to  bear,  but  before  he 
could  open  fire,  a  solid  shot  struck  one  of  his  twelve- 
pounders,  breaking  the  trunnions  and  splintering  the 
wheels.  In  like  manner  one  of  his  caissons  blew  up,  and 
I  do  not  think  that  he  Avas  able  to  make  any  practice 
whatever.  A  division  of  infantry  was  now  marched  for- 
ward to  engage  the  Confederates  at  the  creek-side,  but 
two  of  the  regiments  turned  bodily  and  could  not  be 
rallied. 

The  moment  was  full  of  significance,  and  I  beheld  these 
failures  with  breathless  suspense.  In  five  minutes  the 
pursuers  woukl  gain  the  creek,  and  in  ten  drive  our 
dismayed  battalions  like  chaff'  before  the  wind. 

I  hurried  to  my  horse,  that  I  might  be  ready  to  escape ; 
the  shell  and  ball  still  made  music  around  me.    I  buckled 


340  A  THRILLING  SCENE  IN  TENNESSEE. 

•up  my  saddle  with  tremulous  fingers,  and  put  my  foot 
upon  the  stirrup.  But  a  cheer  recalled  me,  and  a  great 
clapping  of  hands,  as  at  some  clever  performance  at  the 
amphitheatre.  I  looked  again.  A  battery  had  opened 
from  our  position  across  the  road  upon  the  Confederate 
infantry,  as  they  reached  the  very  brink  of  the  swamp. 
For  a  moment,  the  bayonets  tossed  wildly,  the  immense 
column  staggered  like  a  drunken  man,  the  flags  rose  and 
fell,  and  then  the  line  moved  back  disorderly ;  the  pass 
had  been  defended. 


A  THEILLIUG  SCEITE  IN  TENNESSEE. 

The  following  account  of  an  uprising  of  Union  men  in 
East  Tennessee  is  taken  from  a  rebel  source,  and  will  be 
read  with  thrilling  interest. 

The  fafcts  connected  with  the  burning  of  the  Lick  Creek 
Bridge,  says  the  Knoxville  (rebel)  Eegister  of  February 
8,  1862,  as  they  appeared  in  the  testimony  elicited  by  the 
Court-martial,  have  come  into  our  possession  from  an 
authentic  source,  and  are  as  follows : — 

A  man  by  the  name  of  David  Fry,  in  connection  with 
"William  B.  Carter,  both  citizens  of  East  Tennessee,  but 
who  had  lately  deserted  the  land  of  their  birth,  fled  to 
Kentucky,  and  connected  themselves  with  the  enemies  of 
their  country,  returned  to  East  Tennessee  after  the  repulse 
of  General  Zollicoffer's  command  at  Rockcastle  Hill,  for 
the  purpose  of  inciting  a  conspiracy  with  the  traitors  on 
this  side,  which  would  result  in  the  entire  destruction  of 
the  railroad  facilities  here,  and  then  break  up  and  entirely 
cut  oft' communication  between  Virginia  and  the  remain- 
ing States  of  the  Confederacy,  prevent  the  transportation 
of  troops,  provisions,  and  munitions  of  war,  and  thus  open 
the  way  for  the  successful  invasion  of  our  State.  These 
two  men,  as  is  supposed,  came  first  into  the  county  of 
Anderson,  and  then,  concealed  at  the  house  of  a  Union 


A  THRTLLINa  SCENE  IN  TENNESSEE.  841 

man,  sent,  as  one  of  the  witnesses  heard,  for  William 
Pickens,  of  Sevier,  who  made  the  attempt  upon  Straw- 
berry Plains  Bridge,  but  who,  with  his  gang  of  fiiteen 
men,  was  repulsed  by  Keelau  single-handed  and  alone, 
Pickens  himself  falling  seriously  wounded. 

It  is  known  that  Fry  and  Carter  passed  on  into  Roane 
County,  and  parted  at  Kingston.  At  this  point  we  lose 
sight  of  Carter,  as  no  evidence  has  yet  appeared  of  his 
whereabouts  after  that  time.  Fry,  however,  proceeded 
on  his  journey  up  the  country,  passing  through  Loudon 
(no  doubt  making  every  arrangement  for  the  destruction 
of  that  bridge),  then  passing  through  Blount  County, 
and  finally  reaching  Greene  County  two  days  before  the 
burning  of  Lick  Creek  Bridge. 

Travelling,  as  he  did,  at  nights,  and  lying  by  in  day- 
light, stealthily  and  treacherously  creeping  from  one 
traitor's  house  to  another,  his  movements  could  not  be 
traced  until  he  arrived,  on  the  night  of  Wednesday,  the 
6th  of  November,  at  the  house  of  Anderson  Walker,  in 
Greene  County.  Here  he  remained  until  the  night  of 
Thursday,  the  7th,  when  he  proceeded  to  Martin  Walker's, 
arriving  about  eight  o'clock  at  night.  At  Martin 
Walker's  he  met  his  wife,  and  remained  until  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning  of  the  8th,  stating  to  Walker  that  he  was 
on  his  way  to  Kentucky,  but  wanted  to  see  a  friend  near 
Midway  (Lick  Creek  Bridge),  and  asking  if  Jacob  Har- 
mon was  as  good  a  Union  man  as  ever.  As  appeared 
from  the  testimony.  Fry  made  no  revelations  to  Walker 
of  his  plans ;  but  starting,  as  he  did,  at  two  o'clock,  and 
not  being  familiar  with  the  roads.  Walker  piloted  him 
about  three  miles  in  the  direction  of  Midway. 

After  leaving  Walker,  Fry  stopped  at  the  house  of 
Daniel  Smith,  a  noted  Union  man,  living  five  or  six  miles 
from  the  bridge,  arriving  there  about  one  hour  before 
daylight.  Immediately  Fry  laid  his  plans  before  Smith, 
who  agreed  to  act  as  a  messenger  from  Fry  to  Jacob  Har- 
mon to  communicate  to  Harmon  that  he  (Fry)  was  at 


342  A  THRILLING  SCENE  IN  TENNESSEE. 

Smith's  house;  that  he  had  come  to  destroy  the  railroad, 
and  that  he  wanted  to  see  Harmon  at  Smith's  house  that 
morning.  This  message  was  communicated  by  Smith  to 
Jacob  Harmon  about  eight  o'clock  on  tlie  morning  of  the 
8th  of  November ;  and  accordingly  Harmon,  who  was  a 
leading  Union  spirit  in  the  neighborhood,  repaired  to 
Smith's  house,  where  the  plans  were  unfolded,  and  the 
plot  and  programme  agreed  upon.  Harmon  was  to  go 
home,  circulate  the  fact  throughout  the  neighborhood,  and 
gather  the  Unionists,  assembling  them  at  his  house  on 
that  night,  while  Fry  would  remain  at  Smith's  until 
nightfall,  and  then  repair  to  Harmon's  house  to  consum- 
mate the  conspiracy. 

Harmon  did  his  share  of  the  work  well,  for  as  early  as 
nine  o'clock  at  night  between  thirty  and  forty  conspi- 
rators had  met  at  his  house,  ready  to  be  led  by  their 
chief  on  his  arrival,  and  eager  for  the  destruction  of  the 
property.  At  that  hour  Fry  alighted  from  his  horse  and 
bounded  into  the  yard,  exclaiming :  "  Friends,  I  am 
Colonel  Fry,  and  am  come  to  share  Avith  you."  The 
party  immediately  assembled  in  the  house,  when  Fry 
commenced  haranguing  the  crowd  by  revealing  his  plans, 
and  urging  them  on  to  deeds  of  violence,  until  the  crowd 
were  almost  unanimous  in  their  expressions  of  approba- 
tion, and  with  one  accord  determined  that  the  bridge 
should  be  destroyed — that  Fry  should  be  their  leader, 
and  that  they  would  follow  him,  if  necessary  to  death. 

Fry  drew  forth  a  United  States  flag,  and  spreading  it 
upon  a  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  called  upon  his 
followers  to  surround  that  emblem  of  the  Union,  and  take 
with  him  the  oath  of  allegiance.  This  was  late  in  the 
night ;  and  after  the  whole  plot  had  been  fully  under- 
stood, the  conspirators  surrounded  the  table  in  groups, 
and,  by  direction  of  the  leader,  placed  their  left  hands 
upon  the  folds  of  the  flag,  raising  aloft  their  right  hands, 
and  swearing  to  support  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  to  sustain  the  flag  there  spread  before  them,  and 


THE  BOGUS  KENTUCKY  UNIONIST.  348 

to  flo  tliat  night  whatev^er  may  be  impressed  upon  them 
by  their  chief.  This  oath  was  taken  by  all,  except  two 
or  three,  in  solemn  earnest,  and  in  silence;  the  darkness 
relieved  alone  by  the  dim  and  flickering  light  of  a  solitary 
candle.  The  scene  was  impressive — the  occasion  was  full 
of  moment — the  hour  was  iit,  and  everything  conspired  to 
fill  the  hearts  of  the  traitors  with  a  fixed  determination. 

Aroused  thus  to  the  highest  pitch  ot  malice  and  revenge, 
the  chief  of  the  conspirators  immediately  led  the  way  to 
the  bridge,  and  was  followed  in  eager  haste  by  the  will- 
ing crowd.  The  Confederate  guard,  consisting  of  five 
soldiers,  watching  the  bridge,  were  immediately  sur- 
rounded by  the  infuriated  mob,  and  were  held  in  close 
confinement,  while  Frv.  still  leading  th.e  way  and  still 
followed  by  the  boldest  of  his  clan,  hastened  to  the 
wooden  structure,  applied  the  torch,  and  the  whole  waa 
consumed  and  burned  to  the  ground  in  an  hour. 


THE  BOGUS  KMTTJCKT  UinONIST. 

The  arrest  of  the  parties  mentioned  in  the  sketch 
headed  "  Not  the  right  Sanders,"  which  will  be  found  on 
preceding  pages,  was  for  a  time  the  town  talk.  Gossips 
discussed  it  in  every  conceivable  aspect,  and  Rumor  found 
employment  for  her  hundred  tongues.  The  hotels,  the 
steamers,  the  railways,  the  bar-rooms,  and  even  the  streets 
of  Cairo,  Illinois,  were  full  of  it.  It  penetrated  the  sanctity 
of  private  residences,  and  sat  down  with  their  inmates 
around  the  family  hearth.  The  doctor  and  captain  were 
soon  recognized,  pointed  out,  and  everywhere  made  the 
cynosure  of  wondering  eyes.  Speculation  was  busy 
with  their  probable  fate,  and  expressions  of  sympathy  or 
scowling  looks  of  contemptuous  indifference  greeted  them, 
according  to  the  character  and  feelings  of  those  whom 
they  saw  and  met.  Mrs.  Ford,  too,  was  not  forgotten  in 
all  this.     Pitied  and  despised  in  turn,  she  was  thought 


844  THE  BOGUS  KENTUCKY  UNIONIST. 

and  ^5poken  of  by  many ;  but,  not  being  visible  to  the 
rabble,  she  was  hardly  the  object  of  so  much  interest  as 
her  two  companions. 

On  the  evening  following  the  arrest,  while  the  doctor 
was  comfortably  ensconced  within  an  arm-chair  in  the 
sitting-room  of  the  St.  Charles,  he  was  accosted  by  a  fine- 
looking,  elderly  gentleman,  who  introduced  himself  as 
Mr.  Phillips,  of  Louisville,  Kentucky.  For  the  liberty 
thus  taken  he  apologized  by  saying  that  he  had  heard 
him  spoken  of  as  a  Confederate  surgeon  under  arrest  and 
in  trouble,  and  that  if  he  could  be  of  any  assistance  to 
him  he  would  most  cheerfully  render  it.  He  lived,  he 
said,  three  miles  from  Louisville,  just  outside  of  the 
Federal  lines,  and  was  there  known  as  a  Union  man  of 
the  straitest  sect — so  much  so  that  General  Boyle  had 
given  him  a  pass  to  come  into  the  city  and  go  out  at  will. 
He  had  taken  oaths  of  allegiance — bitter  and  detestable 
as_  they  were — out  of  policy,  and  for  appearance's  sake. 
His  heart,  however,  was  with  the  South,  in  whose  service 
part  of  his  family  now  were.  His  son-in-law,  Dr.  Keller, 
was  chief  surgeon  on  Hindman's  staff;  and  his  own  son 
held  a  position  in  the  rebel  army.  He  owned  a  planta- 
tion in  Mississippi,  which  had  formerly  been  well  stocked 
with  negroes.  He  had  heard,  however,  while  at  home, 
that  the  Yankees  had  overrun  the  plantation  and  run  off 
the  negroes,  and  that  most  of  them  had  been  brought  up 
the  river  to  Cairo.  He  had  at  once  procured  from 
General  Boyle  a  pass  to  Cairo  and  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  General  Tuttle,  in  which  he  was  indorsed  as  a 
sound,  thorough-going  Union  man,  in  whom  all  confi- 
dence could  be  placed,  and  stating  also  that  he  was  now 
in  search  of  certain  negroes  supposed  to  be  in  Cairo,  and 
that  any  assistance  rendered  him  in  their  recovery  would 
be  considered  a  particular  favor  by  the  writer,  who 
regarded  it  as  no  more  than  an  act  of  justice  to  a  loyal 
man.  On  the  strength  of  these  representations  he  had 
recovered  the  negroes,  and  was  now  only  waiting  for  a 


THE  EOarS  KSNXrCKY  UNIONIST.  345 

"boat  to  take  them  home  with  him.  In  the  mcftnwhile,  if 
he  could  be  of  any  service,  he  had  only  to  mention  it 
He  had  some  money  left,  and  if  it  was  money  the  doctor 
wanted,  it  was  at  his  command.  If  there  was  not  enough 
of  it,  he  would  procure  more  for  him.  He  would  sign  a 
bond,  would  indorse  any  statement,  would  make  any  sort 
of  representations  to  General  Tuttle  in  bis  behalf,  and^ 
with  the  character  given  him  by  his  letters  of  recom- 
mendation, he  thought  he  could  arrange  the  matter  with 
the  general  and  procure  his  release. 

The  doctor  thanked  him  warmlj^,  but  said  that  it  would 
be  of  no  use,  as  it  was  beyond  the  power  of  General 
Tuttle  to  do  anything  in  the  premises.  He  had  been 
implicated  in  smuggling  contraband  goods  through  the 
lines,  and  had  been  ordered  to  be  sent  back  to  General 
Rosecrans,  to  be  dealt  with  for  the  violation  of  his  parole. 
His  own  case  was  bad  enough,  to  be  sure  ;  but  it  Avas  not 
for  himself  he  cared.  His  life  Avas  Avorth  nothing,  and 
he  Avould  die  any  time  to  serve  the  Confederacy :  it  did 
not  matter  Avhether  he  ever  returned  to  the  land  of  hia 
love.  It  was  not  for  his  own  sake  he  Avished  it,  but  to 
relieve  the  sufterings  and  save  the  lives  of  his  compan- 
ions-in-arms.  There  Avas  a  great  scarcity  of  all  kinds  of 
medicines  in  the  South,  and  hundreds  Avere  dying  for  the 
Avant  of  them.  He  had  hoped,  in  his  poor  Avay,  to  do 
Bomething  for  them,  but  he  had  been  betrayed  by  a 
pretended  friend.  But  even  this  failure,  involving  the 
consequences  it  did,  Avas  a  small  matter  compared  Avith 
the  detention  of  his  fellow-traveller.  That  Avas  a  public 
calamitv  Avhich  it  Avas  of  the  utmost  importance  to  remedy 
at  once";  for,  to  speak  confidentially,  Captain  Denver  Avaa 
not  Captain  Denver  at  all,  but  George  N,  Sanders,  just 
returning  from  England  Avith  the  acceptance  of  the  Con- 
federate loan,  by  the  Rothschilds,  in  his  pocket.  This 
he  had  managed  to  save  from  the  general  confiscation ; 
and  if  any  Avay  could  now  be  devised  to  get  him  away 
and  through  the  lines  immediately,  all  would  yet  be  well 


346  THE  noons  Kentucky  unionist. 

and  the  Confederacy  financially  be  recognized  as  an 
independent  nation.  As  for  himself,  he  liad  no  particular 
desire  to  go  again  to  Nashville  if  it  could  be  avoided,  but 
Sanders  must  be  helped  through  at  all  hazards,  without 
reference  to  himself  or  any  body  else.  Some  time 
previously,  it  will  be  remembered,  the  noted  George  N. 
Sanders  escaped  to  England  through  Canada ;  and  this 
tale  was  concocted  to  correspond  with  that  event  and 
seem  plausible. 

During  this  narration  Phillips  was  deeply  interested, 
and  at  its  close  so  much  excited  that  he  could  hardly 
speak.  After  gazing  abstractedly  for  a  few  moments,  he 
invited  the  doctor  to  his  room,  where  they  could  talk 
more  privately  and  with  less  danger.  There  he  repeated 
that,  though  professedly  Union,  he  was  heart  and  hand 
with  the  South,  and  always  had  been.  He  had  aided  it 
at  every  opportunity — had  smuggled  through  clothing, 
medicines,  arms,  and  ammunition,  had  acted  as  a  spy,  and 
when  Bragg  was  threatening  Louisville  had  sent  his 
negroes  to  him,  time  and  again,  with  valuable  informa- 
tion, and  on  one  very  important  occasion  had  gone  him- 
self. His  earnest  professions  of  loyalty  had  completely 
deceived  the  Federal  authorities,  and  he  was  trusted  by 
General  Boyle  as  a  friend,  and  the  standing  thus  acquired 
had  made  him  of  considerable  service  to  his  Southern 
friends,  and  he  had  expected  to  continue  in  his  assumed 
character  somewhile  longer ;  but  now  he  thought  he 
could  do  more  good  by  throwing  off  the  mask. 

"  Come  straight  back  to  Louisville  with  me,"  he  said. 
"  I  will  put  you  and  Sanders  both  through,  and  go  myself 
in  the  bargain.     I  am  tired  of  Yankee  rule ;  don't  care 


a  for  them,  and  ask  no  odds.      I've  got   money 

enough,  everything  I  want,  and  can  get  along  without 
them.  It  will  be  easy  enough  to  get  away.  Nobody 
will  suspect  me,  and  I  can  get  a  pass  from  Boyle  to  go 
anywhere.  I've  got  some  of  the  best  horses  in  the 
country — can't  be  beat  for  speed  and  bottom;  and  we 


THB  BOGUS  KENTUCKY  UNIONIST.  347 

will  fix  up  a  light  wagon,  fill  it  with  medicines  most 
needed,  and  be  away  beyond  reach  before  anybody'll 
think  of  such  a  thing  as  pursuit." 

The  doctor  assenting,  an  immediate  return  to  Louis- 
ville was  agreed  upon,  where  the  three  were  to  meet 
again  and  make  all  necessary  arrangements  for  the  trip. 
On  reaching  that  city,  the  doctor  went  at  once  to  see 
General  Boyle,  when  the  following  colloquy  ensued  : — ■ 

"  General,  do  you  know  a  man  by  the  name  of  Phillips, 
living  some  three  miles  out  of  town?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  very  well.  lie's  a  particular  friend  of 
mine." 

'Do  you  know  his  wife  and  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Dr. 
Keller?" 

"  Yes — know  the  whole  family." 

"  What  is  their  position,  general,  on  the  war  ques- 
tion ?" 

"  Oh,  they  are  loyal.  He's  one  of  the  very  best  Union 
men  we  have  in  Kentucky." 

"  Ah  ?  But,  general,  what  would  you  think  if  I  should 
say  I  had  made  an  arrangement  with  him  to  poison 
you  ?" 

"  That  you  were  as  mad  as  a  March  hare." 

"  Well,  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  have  exactl}'-  any- 
thing of  that  kind  against  him,  but  I  do  say  that  he  is  not 
a  Union  man  at  all,  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  rebel  and  a 
spy." 

"  How  do  you  know  that?" 

"  Oh,  simply  enough.  He  told  me  so  himself ;  that's 
all.  I  met  him  in  Cairo  a  day  or  two  since,  and  we  had 
a  long  talk."  (Here  the  doctor  narrated  the  circum- 
italices,  and  gave  the  conversation  as  it  occurred.)  "  I'll  fix 
it  upon  him  in  any  way  you  wish.  He  shall  give  money 
to  anybody  you  name,  to  buy  contraband  goods  and 
medicines  with.  He  shall  leave  his  house  on  any  night 
you  say  in  any  kind  of  wagon  you  say.  You  shall  exa- 
mine  that  wagon,  and  in  it  you  shall  find  contraband 


348  THE  BOGUS  KENTUCKY  UNIONIST. 

goods.  You  sliall  arrest  liim  at  any  point  you  please, 
and  you  will  find  our  man  Conklin  [Denver]  in  the  wagon, 
blacked  and  disguised  as  a  negro.  You  shall  find  upon 
him  letters  to  Southern  rebels;  or  you  may  secrete  your- 
self behind  a  screen,  and  hear  him  tell  his  own  story,  how 
he  has  deceived  you,  how  he  smuggled  goods  through  to 
the  rebels  times  without  number,  how  he  kept  Bragg  in- 
formed of  what  was  going  on  last  summer,  and  how  he  is 
now  preparing  to  go  south  with  an  amount  of  medicines, 
important  dispatches,  etc." 

"  Good  God  !  Is  it  possible  that  he  is  such  a  man  ?  I 
would  have  staked  my  life  on  his  loyalty  and  good  faith. 
But  can't  you  stay  and  work  the  case  up  for  me  ?" 

"  I  will  stay  to-morrow  and  do  what  I  can ;  but  the 
next  day  I  must  be  in  Kashville.  I  will  arrange  matters 
so  that  your  own  men  can  fix  the  whole  thing  upon  him, 
but  I  am  expected  back  day  after  to-morrow,  and  dare 
not  stay  longer." 

"  I  don't  like  to  trust  them  ;  it's  too  important  a  case. 
I'll  telegraph  to  the  Chief  of  Police,  and,  if  your  business 
isn't  a  matter  of  too  much  importance,  get  permission  for 
you  to  stay  a  few  days.     How  will  that  do  ?" 

"  Very  well." 

The  doctor  then  took  his  leave,  and  the  next  morning 
was  shown  a  dispatch  authorizing  him  to  remain  in 
Louisville  so  long  as  General  Boyle  should  require  his 
assistance. 

That  day  Phillips  came  to  see  the  doctor  at  the  Gait 
House.  The  project  was  discussed  more  at  length,  and 
a  plan  of  operations  partially  agreed  upon.  At  length 
Phillips  said  to  the  doctor — 

"  Do  you  know  my  son-in-law,  Dr.  Keller  ?" 

"  Very  well ;  have  seen  him  a  hundred  times." 

"  Do  you  know  his  wife  ?" 

"Yes:  I  met  her  frequently  in  Memphis.  She  was 
connected  with  some  aid  society  there,  and  I  saw  her  often 
about  the  hospitals." 


THE  BOGUS  KENTUCKY  UNIONIST.  349 

"Did  jon  ?  Sbe's  at  my  house  now,  and  will  be  crazy 
to  see  you." 

The  doctor  saw  that  he  was  getting  himself  into  a 
scrape.  Known  to  Mrs,  Keller  by  another  name  and  in 
another  character,  how  should  he  meet  her  now,  in  new 
gnrb  and  guise,  without  revealing  the  deception  and 
frightening  away  his  game.  The  only  escape  from  the 
dilemma  was  to  put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter,  and  by 
sheer  audacity  overcome  any  difficulties  or  obstacles  that 
might  be  thrown  in  his  way  by  reason  of  old  acquaintance. 
He  would  be  very  happy  to  meet  the  lady,  he  said,  but 
could  not  call  on  her.  He  did  not  think  it  was  wise  to 
leave  the  hotel,  and  especially  to  go  beyond  the  lines. 
It  was  only  a  matter  of  courtesy  that  he  was  allowed  the 
liberty  he  enjoyed.  Charged  with  breaking  his  parole, 
strict  military  usage  would  demand  close  confinement 
under  guard,  and  he  was  anxious  to  do  nothing  to  which 
the  least  exception  could  now  be  taken.  Any  further 
mishap  to  him  would  endanger  the  success  of  their  new 
enterprise,  and  it  was  vitally  important  that  Sanders 
should  get  through  this  time  without  fail.  If  his  daughter 
could  be  induced  to  call  upon  him  at  the  Gait  House,  it 
would  confer  a  personal  favor  upon  him,  and  would  re- 
lieve him  from  the  necessity  or  temptation  of  doing  any- 
thing incompatible  with  the  terms  of  his  parole  with  the 
strictest  sense  of  honor,  Phillips  acknowledged  the  just- 
ness of  this  view  of  the  case,  and  promised  that  Mrs.  Kel- 
ler should  visit  him  the  next  day. 

Sure  enough,  the  next  morning  in  came  Mrs.  Keller. 
Hardly  had  she  alighted  from  her  carriage  when  the 
doctor  welcomed  her  in  his  most  graceful  manner. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mrs,  Keller  ?  I  am  delighted  to 
see  you.  How  well  you  are  looking!  How  are  the 
children?  When  did  you  leave  Memphis?  How  long 
have  you  been  in  Louisville  ?  When  did  you  hear  from 
Dr.  Keller  ?  How  did  you  leave  all  the  friends  in  Mem- 
phis?" 


850  THE  BOGUS  KENTUCKY  UNIONIST. 

And  so  for  full  five  minutes  tlie  doctor  launclied  at 
ber  question  after  question,  with  the  utmost  rapidity  of 
his  rapid  utterance,  scarcely  giving  her  time  to  hear, 
much  less  answer  the  first,  before  her  attention  was  called 
to  a  second,  a  third,  and  so  on,  until  she  was  so  hopelessly 
confused  and  perplexed  that  she  could  say  just  nothing 
at  all.  By  the  time  she  had  recovered,  the  doctor,  with 
diplomatic  skill,  had  diverted  the  conversation  into  new 
channels,  still  giving  her  no  time  to  advert  to  their  ac- 
quaintance in  Memphis  and  the  spirit  of  change  which 
had  since  come  over  him.  At  length,  by  shrewd  manage- 
meiit,  she  edged  in  this  simple  question — 

"  When  did  you  see  Dr.  Keller  last?" 

The  road  now  being  clear,  the  doctor  answered  more 
at  leisure,  but  not  less  elaborately — 

"It  has  been  a  good  while — some  five  or  six  months. 
I  have  been  a  prisoner  three  months  or  more,  and  Gene- 
ral Ilindman  had  gone  to  Arkansas  some  time  before  I 
was  captured,  and  I  have  not  seen  the  doctor  since  he 
left  with  the  general." 

"  I  had  no  idea  you  had  been  so  long  a  prisoner.  How 
did  you  happen  to  be  taken,  and  how  did  yoti  escape?" 

"  We  were  taken  in  the  Confederate  hospital  at  luka. 
Ordinarily,  surgeons  are  not  treated  as  prisoners,  but  are 
considered  non-combatants.  We,  however,  were  retained 
as  hostages  for  the  return  of  certain  Federals  imprisoned 
by  General  Price  in  violation,  as  the  Yankee  commander 
alleged,  of  the  rules  of  war  and  the  cartel  agreed  upon 
by  the  contending  parties.  A  very  intimate  friend  o'f 
mine,  Dr.  Scott,  also  of  the  Confederate  army,  and  cap- 
tured with  me,  married  a  cdusin  of  the  Federal  General 
Stanley;  and  througli  the  influence  which  this  relation- 
ship gave  him  we  were  released  on  parole,  the  remainder 
being  still  in  captivit3^" 

The  doctor  then  proceeded  with  a  relation  of  the  occur- 
rences of  the  past  two  or  three  days,  dwelling  particularly 
upon  the  unfortunate  detention  of  Sanders.     Mrs.  Kel 


THE  EOGUS  KENTUCKY  UNIONIST.  351 

ler's  sympathy  was  at  once  excited.  She  entered  warmly 
into  their  plans  and  purposes,  and  freely  offered  every 
assistance  that  it  was  in  her  power  to  render.  She  Avould 
go  herself,  but  circumstances  over  which  she  had  no 
control  would  not  permit  it.  She  had  a  younger,  unmar- 
ried sister,  however,  Avho  was  very  anxious  to  accompany 
them,  and  she  would  dress  her  in  boy's  clothes  to  avoid 
suspicion  and  trouble. 

Just  then  Phillips  himself  came  in,  flushed  with  excite- 
ment, and  eager  to  be  off  at  once.  His  whole  mind  was 
bent  on  the  enterprise,  and  he  could  not  be  easy  until 
they  were  fairly  started.  His  arrangements  were  all 
perfected,  and  he  knew  just  Avhere  he  could  buy  every- 
thing he  wanted ;  he  would  take  the  articles  out  to  his 
house  a  few  at  a  time,  and  nobody  would  imagine  an_y- 
thing  out  of  the  way.  He  could  easily  make  two  trips 
a  day ;  and  it  wouldn't  take  long  at  that  rate  to  load  the 
wagon.  He  wanted  everything  ready,  so  that  they  could 
be  off  at  a  moment's  notice. 

" Certainly,"  said  the  doctor,  thoughtfully,  "it  will  be 
well  to  have  everything  ready.  But  since  I  saw  j'-ou  last 
I've  been  thinking  about  this  thing  of  carrying  contra- 
band goods  with  us,  and  I've  about  concluded  it  won't  do. 
It  is  true  that  the  medicines  would  do  an  immense  amount 
of  good — possibly  save  many  lives;  but  there's  Denver; 
he  must  be  got  through,  anyhow.  It  won't  do  to  risk 
anything.  AVe  must  have  a  sure  thing  of  it  this  time. 
Then,  again,  I  don't  want  to  act  in  bad  faith  by  violating 
my  parole.  Our  people  want  such  things  badly  enough, 
but  they  must  get  them  in  some  other  way.  It  will  be 
glory  enough  for  us  to  get  Denver  through  ;  'twill  be 
better  than  winning  a  battle ;  whole  generations  will  rise 
up  and  call  us  blessed.  Don't  let  us  attempt  too  much 
and  spoil  it  all.  Better  avoid  all  needless  risk,  and  stick 
to  one  thing.     "We  are  made  men  if  we  succeed  in  that." 

But  Phillips  was  not  convinced.  He  didn't  believe 
there  was  any  risk  at  all,  and  wasn't  going  wit^h  an  empty 


352  THE  BOGUS  KENTUCKY  UNIONIST. 

"wagon — not  he.  It  should  be  packed  as  full  as  it  could 
hold  with  drugs  and  other  needed  goods.  He  had  money, 
and  was  going  to  use  it ;  and  if  he,  the  doctor,  was  afraid  to 
go  with  him,  he  might  find  some  other  means  of  getting 
there. 

To  this,  the  doctor  only  replied  that  he  still  thought  it 
unwise,  but  he  was  not  the  man  to  back  out  of  any  enter- 
prise. Still,  he  would  not  violate  his  parole — would  not 
knowingly  engage  in  any  contraband  trade.  But  Denver 
was  under  no  such  restraint,  and,  said  the  doctor — 

"You  had  better  talk  with  him.  He  knows  just  what 
is  wanted.  He's  a  mild,  quiet  fellow,  however,  and  never 
intrudes  himself  upon  anybody's  notice.  He  wouldn't 
think  of  suggesting  such  a  thing ;  but  if  you  furnish  him 
mone}'-  he'll  buy  just  what  can  be  used  to  the  best  advan- 
tage. He  can  buy  and  you  can  load  the  goods ;  but  I 
don't  want  to  know  an^^thing  aboat  them.  You  can  be 
ready  to  start  on  such  a  day,  and  I  will  meet  you  at 
some  station  on  the  railroad  and  take  passage  with  you 
there." 

Phillips  was  satisfied  with  this,  and  at  once  sought  out 
Denver  and  gave  him  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  dollars 
— all  the  money  he  had  with  him — directed  him  to  a 
particular  store  where  he  could  get  all  the  quinine,  &c. 
that  he  wanted,  told  him  to  buy  as  much  as  he  thought 
best,  and  pay  this  money  down  as  an  earnest  of  good  faith 
in  making  the  purchase.  In  the  meanwhile  he  would 
draw  from  the  bank  as  much  more  as  would  be  needed, 
and  with  it  he  could  settle  the  bill  the  next  day.  Den- 
ver went  as  directed,  but  found  that  the  merchant  would 
sell  him  nothing  without  a  special  permit  from  General 
Boyle,  This  was  reported  to  the  doctor,  who  promised 
to  have  that  obstacle  removed  without  delay. 

While  Phillips  and  Denver  are  arranging  other  matters, 
the  doctor  goes  to  General  Boyle,  reports  progress,  and 
asks  him  to  issue  a  permit  for  the  sale  of  the  quinine. 
The  general  hesitates,  doesn't  exactly  like  to  do  it,  and 


A  contraband's  idea  op  war.  353 

finally  asks  if  tbey  can't  mark  some  boxes  "quinine." 
nail  them  up,  load  them  into  his  wagon,  and  have  them 
found  there  when  arrested.  "But  no,"  he  continues, 
"that  won't  do  at  all.  He'd  beat  us  in  that  game.  We 
couldn't  show  that  he  had  anything  contraband  in  his 
wagon.  Of  course  he'd  deny  it,  and  it  would  be  neces- 
sary for  us  to  prove  it.  Can't  we  borrow  enough  to 
answer  our  purposes?" 

"  Possibly ;  but  it  would  be  better  for  the  Government 
to  buy  it,  if  you  won't  let  him  do  it.  It  would  be  worth 
more  than  five  or  six  hundred  dollars  to  get  rid  of  such 
an  arrant  old  traitor  and  spy." 

'*■  I  guess  we  can  get  along  by  borrowing." 
The  borrowing  project  very  nearly  defeated  the  whole 
matter,  by  the  delay  incurred ;  but  the  quinine  was  finally 
obtained,  given  to  Denver,  and  safely  packed  in  Phillips' 
wagon.  Everything  was  now  ready  for  a  start.  The 
doctor  took  the  cars  for  the  place  of  meeting,  and  Phillips 
set  out  in  his  wagon,  Denver,  disguised  as  a  negro,  driving. 
The  doctor  arrived  safely  at  the  appointed  rendezvous; 
but  not  so  Phillips.  He  was  scarcely  well  started  when 
he  was  arrested  and  brought  back  to  Louisville.  Too 
proud  and  haughty  to  betray  the  least  emotion,  there  was 
no  "  scene"  at  any  time  during  his  arrest  or  examination, 
and  he  vouchsafed  not  a  word  in  his  own  behalf  Defence 
there  could  be  none.  His  guilt  was  too  patent  for  doubt. 
Conviction  followed  as  a  matter  of  course ;  and  instead 
of  finding  a  home  on  his  Mississippi  plantation,  he  became 
an  involuntary  recipient  of  the  widely-dispensed  hospi- 
talities of  Camp  Chase. 


A  CONTEABAND'S  IDEA  OP  WAE. 

A  correspondent  writing  from  Burnside's  Division  at 
Newbern,  N.  C,  gives    the  following  amusing  account 
of  the  ideas  which  the  negroes  there  have  of  the  war. 
23 


354  A  CONTRABAND'S  IDEA  OF  "WAR. 

We  were  passing  along  the  wharves,  a  few  days  ago, 
wondering  at  the  amount  of  business  that  was  there 
transacted.  While  standing  observing  a  cargo  of  horses 
being  transferred  from  a  vessel  to  the  shore,  an  "  old  con- 
traband" appeared  at  our  elbow,  touching  his  old  fur  hat, 
and  scraping  an  enormous  foot.  He  opened  his  battery 
upon  us  with  the  following — 

"  Well,  boss,  how  is  yer  ?" 

"  Pretty  well,  daddy ;  how  are  you  ?" 

"I'se  fuss  rate,  I  is.  B'long  to  old  Burnemside's  boys, 
does  yer  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  belong  to  that  party.     Great  boys,  ain't  they  ?" 

"  Well,  I  thought  yer  b'long  to  dat  party.  Great  man, 
he  is,  dat's  sartin.     Yes  sir." 

"  We  waited  and  waited ;  we  heard  yer  was  comin', 
but  we  mos  guv  yer  up.  'Deed  we  jess  did ;  but  one 
morning  we  heard  the  big  guns,  way  down  ribber,  go 
bang,  bang,  bang,  and  de  folks  round  yer  began  to  cut 
dar  sticks  mitey  short,  and  trabbel  up  de  rail-track.  Den 
bress  de  good  Lord,  we  knowed  yer  was  comin',  but  we 
held  our  jaw.  Byme-by  de  sogers  begun  to  cut  dar 
stick,  too,  and  dey  did  trabble!  Goramity,  'pears  dey 
made  de  dirt  fly  1     Yah,  ha !" 

"  Why,  were  they  scared  so  bad  ?" 

"De  sogers  didn't  skeer  um  so  much  as  dem  black 
boats.  'Kase,  yer  see,  de  sogers  shot  solid  balls,  and  dey 
not  mind  dem  so  much  ;  but  when  dem  boats  say  bo-o-m, 
dey  knowed  de  rotten  halls  was  comin',  and  dey  skeeted, 
quickern  a  streak  o'  litenin." 

"  What  rotten  balls  did  the  boats  throw  at  them  ?" 

"  Don't  yer  know  ?  Why,  dem  balls  dat  are  bad,  dar 
rotten;  fly  all  to  bits — 'deed  does  dey— play  de  very 
debbil  wid  yer.  No  dodgin'  dem  ere  balls ;  'kase  yer 
dunno  whar  dey  fly  to — strike  yah  and  fly  yandah ; 
dat's  what  skeered  'em  so  bad !" 

"  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  when  the  war's  over  ? 
Going  along  ?" 


THE  TRAITOR  WAGON-MASTER.  355 

"Dunno,  'praps  I  goes  Norf,  wid  dis  crowd.  Pretty 
much  so,  I  guess.  'Peers  ter  me  dis  cbile  had  better  be 
movin'." 


THE  TEAITOR  WAGON-MASTEE. 

In  the  early  part  of  February,  1863,  there  was  board- 
ing at  the  City  Hotel,  in  Nashville,  a  lady  of  ordinary 
appearance  and  apparently  about  forty-five  years  of  age. 
Her  husband  and  three  sons  were  in  the  rebel  Morgan's 
command,  and  she  was  known  by  the  proprietors  of  the 
house  and  by  Mrs.  Winburn — -the  wife  of  one  of  them — ■ 
as  entertaining  strong  sympathy  for  the  Confederate  cause. 
In  reality,  however,  she  was  a  Union  woman,  and  in  the 
employ  of  Colonel  Truesdail,  Chief  of  the  Army  Police. 
From  the  position  of  her  relatives,  and  her  former  place 
of  residence,  aided  by  her  expression  of  Southern  senti- 
ments, she  was  considered  a  genuine  secessionist,  and  had 
completely  won  the  favor  of  Mrs.  Winburn,  by  whom 
she  was  made  a  friend  and  confidante.  Mrs.  W.  told  her 
on  several  occasions  how  much  aid  she  and  others  of  her 
lady  friends  had  rendered  to  the  Confederates,  and  how 
much  more  they  intended  to  do  for  them.  When  visitors 
arrived  at  the  City  Hotel  and  made  known  their  Southern 
sympathies,  she  was  introduced  to  them  as  entertaining 
the  same  sentiments,  and  at  once  admitted  to  their  con- 
fidence and  councils.  In  this  way  she  learned  the  exist- 
ence there  of  a  club,  or  rather  association  of  persons,  of 
rebel  tendencies,  the  members  of  which  made  use  of  a 
certain  password,  without  which  none  could  gain  admit- 
tance to  their  meetings,  and  this  password  was  "  Truth 
and  Fidelity." 

About  the  middle  of  February  there  arrived  at  the 
hotel  from  Louisville  a  certain  Mrs.  Trainor,  who  was 
there  joined  by  her  husband,  John  Trainor — the  latter 
understood  to  have  formerly  been  master  of  transporta- 


356  THE  TRATTOR  WAGON-MASTER. 

tion  in  the  Ordnance  Department  of  Major-General  Buell's 
army.  Mrs.  Trainor  was  introduced  by  Mrs.  Winburn 
to  her  confidential  friend  our  detective  as  one  who  had 
at  heart  the  welfare  of  the  Southern  Confederacy,  and 
Mrs.  Trainor  presented  her  to  Trainor,  her  husband,  say- 
ing that  he  too  was  a  friend  of  the  South,  and  ardently 
desired  its  success  in  the  struggle  for  independence. 
This  interview  proved  the  precursor  of  many  others,  in 
which  Trainor  and  his  wife  made  many  interesting  state- 
ments concerning  themselves  and  the  assistance  which 
they  had  rendered  to  the  rebel  army. 

From  Trainor  she  thus  gained  the  following  remark- 
able information.  In  the  fall  of  1861,  he  had  run  the 
Federal  blockade  and  brought  from  Louisville  to  Nash- 
ville, for  the  use  of  the  Confederate  army,  several  wagon- 
loads  of  arms,  ammunition,  drugs,  and  medicines.  These 
he  had  purchased  in  Louisville — the  arms  and  ammuni- 
tion from  a  Mr.  Bull,  and  the  drugs  and  medicines  from 
Dr.  Pile.  While  in  Nashville  on  this  business,  he  made 
the  acquaintance  of  General  Zollicoffer,  who  advised  him 
to  abandon  the  neutral  position  he  then  occupied  in  regard 
to  the  war  and  engage  in  the  service  of  the  Confederates. 
This  he  agreed  to  do ;  and,  the  better  to  accomplish  his 
ends,  he  was  to  obtain  the  position  of  Master  of  Trans- 
portation in  the  Ordnance  Department  of  the  Federal 
army.  On  his  return  to  Louisville  he  had  applied  for 
the  situation,  which  was  given  him.  Since  then  he  had 
improved  the  advantages  it  offered,  by  following  the 
Federal  army  down  into  Alabama  with  wagondoads  of 
contraband  goods,  which,  according  to  previous  arrange- 
ment, he  disposed  of  at  different  places.  During  the 
whole  Buell  campaign  the  rebels  knew,  at  all  times,  the 
strength  of  the  escort  which  accompanied  him,  and  if 
they  did  not  capture  his  train  it  was  not  his  fault.  In 
the  different  skirmishes  between  the  two  armies  he  so 
managed  that  his  train  was  never  in  its  right  place,  and 
frequently  the  rebels  would  capture  a  portion  of  it,  but 


THE  TRAITOR  WAGON-MASTER.  85t 

'W'^uld  not  take  him  prisoner,  as  it  would  be  against  their 
own  interests  to  do  so. 

He  regretted  very  much  that  the  Confederates  had  not 
captured  a  train  of  one  hundred  and  sixteen  wagons,  once 
■under  his  charge,  while  General  Buell  was  on  his  march 
to  Kentucky  in  September  last.  lie  had  requested  Mrs. 
Winburn  to  inform  Generals  Morgan  and  Forrest  where 
they  could  find  the  train,  and  how  many  men  the  escort 
numbered.  This  she  did  ;  and  he  was  so  sure  they  would 
capture  the  train  that  he  took  Mrs.  Winburn  and  his  wife 
along  for  some  distance  from  Nashville  to  see  the  fun  of 
the  capture.  He  had  with  him  a  young  man — formerly 
in  the  Confederate  army,  but  at  that  time  in  his  employ 
— who  was  so  disappointed  because  the  train  was  not 
captured  that  he  blew  up  and  destroyed  twenty-five  of 
the  wagons  as  they  were  passing  over  a  certain  bridge, 
and  this,  he  said,  was  done  with  his  own  knowledge  and 
consent,  and  partially  at  his  suggestion. 

After  General  Rosecrans  assumed  command  of  the 
Army  of  the  Cumberland,  Trainor  said  he  began  to  pur- 
chase from  the  Federal  officers  and  soldiers,  and  from 
others  who  would  sell  them,  pistols  for  General  Wheeler, 
Dick  McCann,  and  the  guerrilla  bands  in  the  country. 
Some  of  them  he  carried  to  the  rebels  himself,  and  the 
balance  he  sent  by  a  man  named  Nevins,  who  lived  in 
Kentucky  and  had  a  contract  to  furnish  cattle  to  the 
Federal  army.  This  Kevins  usually  had  with  him  some 
of  Morgan's  men,  through  whom  he  kept  the  Confederates 
continually  informed  of  the  number  and  movements  of 
Federal  troops  along  the  line  of  the  Louisville  &  Nashville 
Railroad,  and  he  had  acted  as  a  guide  for  Kirby  Smith 
when  the  latter  invaded  Kentucky  last  fall.  Trainor 
further  said  that  he  (Trainor)  now  had  charge  of  the 
army  transportation  at  Nashville,  and  that  about  the  time 
of  the  battles  at  Stone  River  he  was  in  the  rebel  camp 
and  gave  information.     At  this  the  lady  remarked — 


358  THE  TRAITOR  WAGON-MASTER. 

"  That  accounts  for  tlie  success  of  the  Confederates  in 
capturing  so  many  of  the  Federal  wagons." 

"  You  may  come  to  what  conclusions  on  that  subject 
you  please,"  answered  Trainor. 

The  young  man,  he  continued,  who  was  with  him  at 
the  time  of  Buell's  retreat,  and  blew  up  the  twenty -five 
w^agons,  was  still  in  his  employ;  and  one  night,  not  long 
since,  bv  his  management,  five  hundred  mules  belonging 
to  the  United  States  had  stampeded  and  mysteriously 
disappeared  from  their  corral.  Many  other  interesting 
things  which  the  young  man  had  done  for  the  benefit  of  the 
Confederate  Government  Trainor  related  with  relish,  and 
seemed  desirous  to  impress  upon  the  mind  of  his  hearer 
that  he  himself  was  at  all  times  anxious  to  serve  the 
rebels  and  injure  the  Federal  Government  in  every  pos- 
sible way.  Seeing  this  disposition  on  his  part,  she  sug- 
gested that  he  could  now  do  more  good  by  purchasing 
arms,  quinine,  and  other  medicines  for  the  use  of  the 
Confederate  army  than  in  any  other  way,  and  adding  that 
she  had  a  friend  in  Louisville  who  was  a  secret  agent  for 
that  very  purpose,  and  who  would  assist  him  in  getting 
them  South, 

Trainor  replied  that  he  had  then  on  hand  one  and  a 
half  pounds  of  quinine  and  two  or  three  splendid  pistols, 
which  he  would  like  to  send  South,  and  that  he  could 
procure  any  quantity  of  pistols  if  the  money  was  furnished 
to  purchase  them. 

The  lady  then  proposed  to  buy  his  pistols  and  quinine, 
if  he  would  deliver  them  to  her  friend  in  Louisville,  who 
would  send  them  through  the  lines, 

Trainor  assented,  and  sold  her  the  quinine  and  four 
pistols,  for  which  he  received  from  her  two  hundred  dol- 
lars. He  also  proposed  to,  and  did,  write  to  Mr.  Bull 
and  Dr.  Pile,  of  Louisville,  requesting  them  to  furnish 
the  secret  agent  above  mentioned  such  quantity  of  qui- 
nine, pistols,  and  knives  as  he  might  wish  for  the  Con- 
federate service.     He  further  said  that  he  had  a  friend 


THE  TRAITOR  WAGON-MASTER.  359 

by  the  name  of  Kellogg,  in  whom  he  had  confidence,  and 
for  whom  he  had  obtained  a  pass  and  transportation  to 
Louisville,  and  that  he  would  send  the  quinine  and  pistola 
by  him,  instead  of  by  his  wife,  as  had  been  previously 
arranged.  Implicit  faith  could  be  reposed  in  Kellogg, 
as  he  had  recently  engaged  in  running  horses  to  the  Con- 
federacy, and  was  now  trying  to  assist  a  rebel  prisoner 
to  escape  from  the  penitentiary.  His  friend  Mr.  Bull, 
continued  Trainor,  had  a  brother  who  was  chief  clerk  in 
the  Quartermaster's  Department  of  the  Union  army,  and 
as  good  a  secessionist  as  his  brother,  and  who  had  a  much 
better  chance  to  serve  the  South  than  he  had.  He 
thought  the  Federals  would  have  a  good  time  whipping 
the  Confederates,  when  many  of  the  important  offices  of 
the  different  army  departments  were  filled  by  friends  of 
the  latter. 

The  reason  assigned  for  sending  the  quinine  and  pistols 
to  the  South  by  the  way  of  Louisville  was  that  it  afforded 
less  chance  of  detection  than  to  send  directly  from  Nash- 
ville, as  the  Federal  army  had  a  vigilant  police,  and  it 
was  almost  impossible  to  get  them  through  the  lines  in 
that  direction.  Accordingly,  as  agreed,  Trainor,  about 
the  middle  of  March,  did  send  to  Louisville,  by  his  friend 
Kellogg,  the  quinine  and  pistols  that  had  been  purchased 
of  him,  and  which,  on  their  arrival,  were  delivered  to  the 
supposed  secret  agent  of  the  Confederacy,  as  will  here- 
after be  related. 

About  the  same  time  there  arrived  at  the  City  Hotel  a 
gentleman  representing  himself  as  Dr.  Dubois,  an  agent 
of  the  Confederate  States  Army,  and  just  from  Bragg's 
command.  As  he  had  with  him  a  genuine  pass,  signed 
by  General  Bragg  and  countersigned  by  General  Breckin- 
ridge, his  statement  was  readilj''  accepted  as  true  by  the 
proprietors  of  the  hotel  and  its  hahiluis.  For  nearly  a 
week  after  his  arrival  he  was  confined  to  his  room,  by  a 
severe  sickness,  during  which  he  was  carefully  nursed  by 
Mrs.  Winburn,     As  soon  as  recovered,  he  was  introduced 


S!iJ  THE  TRAITOR  WAGON-MASTER. 

by  Mrs.  W.  to  Trainor,  as  a  friend  of  hers  who  had  j-ist 
come  to  Nashville  from  Bragg's  armj  to  purchase  medi- 
ciues  and  goods  to  be  sent  South  through  the  Federal 
lines.  Dubois  at  once  expressed  his  desire  of  purchasing 
pistols  and  medicines,  and  requested  Trainor  to  assist 
iiirn. 

Trainor  eagerly  assented,  and  said,  "  I  will  furnish  you 
nine." 

"But  I  want  and  must  have  more." 

"Well,  I  will  get  them  for  you,  and  will  leave  them  at 
Mrs.  Davidson's,  six  miles  out  on  the  Charlotte  pike. 
Some  of  ray  army-wagons  are  going  out  that  way  after 
wood,  and  I  can  easily  carry  them  with  me." 

Mrs.  Winburn  had  previously  sold  Dubois  three  pistols, 
for  which  she  had  been  promised  twenty-five  dollars  each, 
two  of  which  Trainor  took  with  him  to  his  camp  to 
add  to  those  he  had  there,  and  to  take  them  all  out 
together  as  soon  as  possible.  Dubois  said  that  he  would 
conceal  in  the  muzzle  of  the  third  pistol  important  infor- 
mation, written  in  cipher,  and  a  letter  to  General 
Cheatham,  telling  him  that  a  lot  of  pistols  had  been  pro- 
cured through  the  influence  of  Captain  Trainor,  and  were 
now  on  their  way  South,  to  which  was  added  a  request 
that  he  would  set  Trainor  right  with  the  Confederates 
when  they  got  possession  of  Nashville.  This  pistol 
Trainor  called  for  and  carried  away  the  next  evening, 
but  on  the  day  following  returned  and  said  that  he  was 
totally  unable  to  carry  them  out  to  Mrs.  Davidson's,  as 
he  had  expected  to.  Dubois  then  told  him  he  had  a 
friend  who  would  take  them  out,  and  he  might  bring 
them  back  to  the  hotel — which  he  agreed  to  do  the  next 
evening. 

He  came  as  he  had  promised,  bringing  Avith  him  eight 
revolvers  on  his  person,  some  of  them  in  his  waist-belt 
and  some  in  his  boot-legs.  As  he  handed  them  over,  and 
while  Dubois  was  putting  them  under  the  blanket  on  the 
bed,  he  remarked  that  he  had  on  several  occasions  taken 


THE  TRAITOR  WAGON-MASTER.  361 

out  on  his  person  as  many  pistols  as  he  had  just  brought 
in.  Mrs.  Winburn,  -who  was  present,  boasted  that  she 
had  taken  out  four  blankets  on  her  person,  and  that  a 
lady  friend  had  carried  out  beneath  her  skirts,  in  the 
same  way,  a  cavalry  saddle.  While  this  conversation 
was  still  progressinor,  ^11  parties,  including  Mrs.  "Winburn, 
Trainor,  and  Dubois,  were  arrested,  the  latter  being  ironed 
and  sent  out — ostensibly  to  prison,  but  more  probably  to 
some  other  field  of  operations,  where  his  skill  in  detect- 
ing rebel  smugglers  and  spies  might  be  made  equally 
useful. 

Mrs.  Trainor  had  already  returned  to  Louisville,  and 
had  been  there  some  days.  The  medicines  which  had 
been  forwarded  by  Kellogg  were  in  her  possession,  and 
she  was  anxiously  awaiting  a  visit  from  the  secret  agent 
of  the  Confederacy,  to  whom  she  could  deliver  them  and 
make  with  him  arrangements  for  the  purchase  of  more. 
She  had  been  telegraphed  by  her  Nashville  friends  that 
he  would  call  on  her  in  a  few  days ;  and,  as  some  time 
had  elapsed  since  the  receipt  of  the  despatch,  she  began 
to  wonder  why  he  did  not  come.  One  day,  as  she  was 
returning  in  a  carriage  to  her  house,  in  what  is  known  as 
California  Suburb,  on  Fifteenth  Street  beyond  Kentucky 
Street,  she  espied  coming  from  it  a  well-dressed,  hand- 
some-appearing young  man,  who  wore  conspicuously  a 
large  red- white- and-red  cravat.  As  he  came  opposite  to 
the  carriage,  he  hailed  the  driver,  and  asked — 

"  How  far  are  vou  going  ?" 

"Just  to  yonder  house,"  replied  the  coachman,  pointing 
to  Mrs.  Trainor's,  the  house  he  had  just  come  from. 

"  Very  well :  I  will  wait  here  for  you,  then,  and  go 
back  with  ton." 

During  the  time  occupied  in  this  colloquy,  and  as  long 
as  she  could  see  him  from  the  carriage-window,  Mrs. 
Trainor  eyed  him  earnestly,  as  though  she  suspected  he 
was  the  person  she  was  anxious  to  see.  Nothing  was 
gaid,  however,  and  on  reaching  home  she  went  in  and 


362  THE  TRAITOR  AVAGON-MASTER. 

found  on  the  table  a  note  for  lier  from  one  H.  C.  Davis, 
stating  that  he  was  the  secret  agent  of  the  Confederacy, 
that  he  had  just  called  to  see  about  the  medicines,  and 
was  sorry  to  find  her  out.  The  signature  to  the  note  was 
"Truth  and  Fidelity," — a  sure  guarantee  tbat  there  was 
no  deception  in  the  matter.  Meanwhile  the  coach  had  re- 
turned to  where  the  prospective  passenger  was  left  stand- 
ing, when  that  gentleman  took  his  seat  inside  and  directed 
the  driver  to  turn  around  and  go  again  to  the  house  he 
had  just  left.  Mrs.  Trainor  met  Davis  at  the  door  and 
welcomed  him  most  cordially.  Holding  out  her  hand, 
she  said — 

"  I  thought  as  much.  I  was  sure  it  was  you  when  I 
first  put  my  eye  on  you." 

"  Why,  madam,  what  could  have  made  you  think  so?" 

"  Oh,  that  cravat !  Nobody  else  would  wear  it.  But 
you  must  be  very  careful  about  it.  It  isn't  safe.  You'll 
be  suspected." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  there's  no  danger.  I  have  friends  enough 
in  Louisville  to  take  care  of  me." 

The  two  then  entered  the  house  and  engaged  in  earnest 
conversation.  Davis  said  that  he  was  just  about  shipping 
some  goods  to  the  South,  and  he  would  like  to  send  what 
medicine  she  could  furnish  along  with  them.  He  made 
it  a  practice  to  make  as  few  shipments  as  possible  in 
order  to  avoid  suspicion. 

It  was  all  ready,  she  said,  and  he  might  have  it  as  soon 
as  he  wished. 

Davis  made  arrangements  to  have  them  delivered  at 
an  appointed  time,  and  proposed  the  purchase  of  a  large 
quantity  in  addition  to  that  she  had  brought  from  Nash- 
ville. She  entered  eagerly  into  the  business,  and  said  she 
would  ascertain  at  what  prices  she  could  obtain  quinine, 
morphine,  and  pulverized  opium.  The  next  day  she 
reported  that  she  could  get  them  from  a  man  named  Tafel, 
who  kept  a  small  prescription  store — the  quinine  for  six 
dollars  an  ounce,  the  morphine  at  eight  dollars  an  ounce, 


THE  TRAITOR  "WAGON-MASTER.  SG3 

and  the  pulverized  opium  at  fourteen  dollars  a  pound. 
Davis  thought  this  rather  high,  but  said  he  would  take 
them  at  that  price.  lie  wanted  a  thousand  ounces  of 
quinine  and  smaller  quantities  of  the  others.  After 
making  arrangements  for  the  purchase  of  the  medicines 
and  a  supply  of  pistols — which  was  to  be  furnished  by 
Mr.  Bull  at  thirty  dollars  each — Davis  went  to  the  city 
to  prepare  for  their  shipment  South. 

The  next  evening  he  called  again  to  invite  Mrs.  Trainor 
to  the  theatre,  and  was  told  that  there  was  a  difficulty 
about  the  medicines.  Tafel  was  fearful  that  he  could  not 
make  so  large  a  purchase  on  his  individual  credit,  and 
that  he  wished  the  money  advanced  to  buy  them  with. 
Davis  replied  that  he  never  did  business  in  that  way. 
He  would  pay  cash  on  delivery,  and  if  Tafel  could  not 
furnish  them  on  those  terms  they  must  look  elsewhere. 
Mrs.  Trainor  thought  there  would  be  no  difficulty  about 
it.  Tafel  was  to  procure  them  of  a  wholesale  druggist 
named  Wilder,  and  the  matter  could  doubtless  be  arranged 
to  the  satisfaction  of  all  concerned.  In  foct,  she  could 
safely  promise  that  it  should  be  ready  by  the  next  after- 
noon. At  his  next  visit,  Davis  was  told  that  the  medi- 
cines had  been  purchased,  and  were  ready  for  delivery, 
when  and  where  he  pleased. 

He  wished  them  delivered  at  her  house,  he  said,  early 
the  next  morning.  He  was  all  ready  to  ship,  and  was  only 
waiting  for  them.  Mrs.  Trainor  engaged  that  they  should 
be  there  without  fail,  and  Davis  returned  to  the  city, 
having  first  arranged  with  a  Federal  soldier  whom  he 
found  at  her  house — a  deserter  from  the  Anderson  Cavalry 
— to  go  South  and  act  as  a  scout  for  General  Breckinridge 
in  his  expected  movement  into  Kentucky.  The  next 
morning,  instead  of  himself  coming  to  receive  the  goods 
as  he  had  promised,  he  sent  out  a  force  of  policemen,  who 
reached  there  just  as  the  wagon  containing  the  medicines 
drove  up  to  the  door.  Mrs.  Trainor,  the  driver,  and  the 
deserter  were  taken  into  custody,  and  the  ftjrmer  was  sent 


364  NOT  USED  TO  IT. 

immediately  to  Nashville.  The  wagon  was  fonnd  to 
contain  drugs — mostly  quinine  and  opium — to  the  value 
of  about  five  thousand  five  hundred  dollars,  according  to 
the  wholesaler's  bill,  and  eight  thousand  eight  hundred 
dollars  at  Tafel's  prices.  The  pistols  did  not  come,  Bull 
having  failed  to  procure  them.  Wilder  and  Bull  were 
also  arrested,  and  the  store  of  the  former  seized,  with  its 
contents,  valued  at  from  fifty  thousand  to  seventy-five 
thousand  dollars.  Tafel's  prescription  shop  was  converted 
by  General  Boyle  into  a  medical  dispensary  for  the  hos- 
pitals of  Louisville,  and  is  now  used  as  such.  Since  her 
arrest,  Mrs.  Trainor  has  been  heard  to  say  that  she  was 
fearful  that  secret  agent  of  the  Confederacy  was  only 
"  one  of  Truesdail's  spies,"  in  which  supposition  she  was 
more  than  usually  correct. 


A  CTJTE  DAEKEY. 

"  Bob,"  now  called  Belmont  Bob,  is  the  body  servant 
of  General  Clernand,  and  at  the  battle  of  Belmont  it  is 
said  of  him  that  when  the  retreat  commenced  he  started 
for  the  boats.  Reaching  the  banks,  he  dismounted  and 
slid  rapidly  down,  when  an  officer  seeing  the  action^ 
called  out — 

"  Stop,  you  rascal,  and  bring  along  the  horse." 

Merely  looking  up  as  he  waded  to  the  plank  through 
the  mud,  the  darkey  replied — 

"  Can't  bey,  colonel ;  major  told  me  to  save  the  most 
yaluable  property,  and  dis  nigger's  worf  mor'n  a  horse." 


NOT  USED  TO  IT. 

A  good  joke  is  told  from  the  other  side  of  the  lines,  of 
a  member  of  one  of  the  volunteer  companies  which  went 
down   to  Pensacola.     We   think   it  was   a   Mississippi 


NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT.  865 

(rebel)  company,  and  it  is  said  to  be  a  fact.  Being  ac- 
customed to  fresli  water,  living  in  the  interior,  and  not 
Laving  been  on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  before,  he  was  in 
blissful  ignorance  of  its  brinv  properties.  Getting  up  in 
the  morning  to  perform  his  daily  ablutions,  he  drew  a 
bucket  full  of  water,  set  it  down  near  some  of  his  com- 
rades, and  retired  for  soap  and  towel.  The  consequences 
can  be  imagined.  Recovering  from  the  shock,  and  rub- 
bing his  burning  eyeballs,  he  exclaimed  :  "  I  can  whip  the 

d d  rascal  that  salted  this  water.     A  man  can't  draw 

a  bucket  of  water,  and  leave  it  for  a  few  minutes,  without 
some  prank  is  played  upon  him." 

Dashing  the  water  aside,  he  left  amid  the  shouts  and 
jeers  of  his  companions  who  had  been  silently  watching 
him. 

NEWCOMEE  THE  SCOUT. 

Our  hero  was  a  private  in  the  Eleventh  Indiana  Battery, 
and  accompanied  Buell  in  his  severe  march  from  Nash- 
ville, Tenn.,  over  almost  impassable  roads  and  through 
swollen  streams  to  Pittsburg  Landing  and  Shiloh— not 
arriving,  however,  in  time  to  participate  in  the  battle. 
Thence  he  went  to  Corinth,  remaining  there  until  its 
evacuation  by  the  rebels,  and  thence  to  Huntsville  and 
Stevenson,  Alabama.  Here,  the  monotony  of  camp  and 
stockade  life  becoming  irksome,  he  began  to  vary  it  by 
scouting  on  his  own  account.  Frequently  at  night,  after 
tattoo,  he  would  mount  his  horse,  slip  past  the  pickets, 
scour  the  neighboring  country  in  quest  of  information 
and  adventure,  and  return  again  before  reveille,  his  ab- 
sence seldom  being  noticed  by  any  one.  On  one  occasion, 
something  of  more  than  ordinary  importance  having  come 
to  his  notice,  he  reported  it  to  Colonel  Harker,  of  the  (]5th 
Ohio  Volunteers,  then  commanding  the  brigade  stationed 
at  that  post,  stating  the  means  by  which  he  had  obtained 
the  information,  and  giving  some  account  of  his  previous 


366  NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT. 

midnight  scouts.  The  colonel,  highly  pleased,  at  once 
gave  him  passes,  and  instructed  him  to  continue  the 
business  as  he  had  time  and  opjjortunity. 

Frequently  he  would  go  down  to  the  Tennessee  liiver 
in  sight  of  the  rebel  pickets ;  and  one  night  he  concluded 
to  cross  the  river  and  get  a  nearer  view  of  them.  Strik- 
ing the  stream  at  a  point  three  miles  from  Stevenson,  he 
built  a  raft  of  rails  and  paddled  himself  across.  Crawl- 
ing up  the  bank  through  the  brush,  he  came  close  upon 
the  pickets,  seven  in  number,  without  being  observed. 
After  watching  their  movements  a  while  and  finding 
nothing  of  particular  interest,  he  returned  safely  as  he 
went.  Soon  afterwards  a  negro  told  him  of  an  island  in 
the  Tennessee  Eiver,  some  ten  miles  below  Stevenson, 
on  which  a  company  of  guerrilla  cavalry  were  in  the 
habit  of  rendezvousing  every  night.  This  opened  a  large 
field  of  operations  for  our  scout,  and  he  determined  to 
visit  the  island  forthwith. 

One  afternoon,  borrowing  a  suit  of  butternut  from  a 
negro  at  Stevenson,  he  set  forth  in  that  direction.  The 
butternut  clothes  were  carried  under  his  saddle  until  he 
was  fairly  outside  of  our  lines,  when  he  exchanged  his 
own  for  them  and  went  on  in  the  character  of  a  genuine 
native.  Reaching  the  river  opposite  the  island  after  dai-k, 
he  again  constructed  a  raft  of  rails,  fastening  them  together 
this  time  with  grape-vines,  and  shoved  across  the  narrow 
channel  to  the  island,  landing  in  a  dense  canebrake. 
Carefully  feeling  his  way  through  this,  he  came  soon 
to  a  corn-crib,  around  which  twenty-five  or  thirty  horses 
were  feeding.  It  was  now  ten  o'clock,  and  quite  dark, 
but  clear  and  starlight.  Examining  the  crib,  the  entrance 
was  discovered  about  half-way  up,  and  our  adventurer 
at  once  clambered  up  and  put  his  head  and  shoulders 
through.  Careful  listening  revealed  the  presence  of 
sleepers  within.  Putting  his  hand  down  to  see  how  far 
it  was  to  them,  it  came  in  contact  with  the  body  of  a  man. 
Wishing  to  know  in  what  direction  he  was  lying,  he  felt 


NEWCOMER  THE  BCOUT.  3Ct 

along  carefully  and  came  upon  a  pistol  in  his  belt. 
Working  at  this,  he  soon  drew  it  out,  and,  finding  it  a 
good  Colt's  revolver,  put  it  into  his  pocket  and  got  down 
again.  Exploring  around,  he  came  to  a  corn-patch  and 
a  cabin  near  by,  in  which  there  seemed,  from  the  noise 
within,  to  be  a  family  or  two  of  negroes. 

Crossing  to  the  south  or  rebel  side  of  the  island,  he 
found  that  the  stream  was  much  narrower  there  than  on 
the  other  side,  and  that  close  to  the  shore  a  number  of 
boats  and  scoW' s,  in  which  the  band  crossed  and  recrossed, 
were  tied.  It  was  now  time  to  think  about  getting  home, 
and  he  circled  around  the  crib  and  cabin  to  reach  the 
place  where  he  had  left  his  raft.  When  he  came  in  sight 
of  it,  there  was  also  to  be  seen  a  human  form  standing 
by  the  water's  edge  and  apparently  regarding  the  raft 
with  no  little  astonishment.  In  the  uncertain  light,  it 
was  impossible  to  tell  whether  it  was  a  man  or  ^voman, 
white  or  black ;  and  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  Avait 
until  it  disappeared.  Crouching  down  amid  the  canes, 
he  soon  saw  it  turn  and  begin  to  climb  the  bank  directly 
towards  him,  and  as  a  precautionary  measure  took  out 
the  pistol  and  cocked  it,  though  he  could  not  see  or  feel 
whether  it  was  loaded  or  not.  The  person  proved  to  be 
a  negro,  and  passed  by,  unconscious  of  the  presence  of 
any  one  so  near,  soliloquizing  to  himself  thus — 

"Mighty  quare  boat,  dat  ar;  'spec's  some  of  Masser 
John's  work." 

The  danger  having  passed,  our  self-appointed  spy  de- 
scended and  re-embarked  on  his  raft.  Lest  any  one 
should  see  him,  he  lay  flat  upon  it,  paddling  with  extended 
arms,  the  whole  presenting  very  much  the  appearance 
of  a  floating  mass  of  driftwood.  By  the  time  he  reached 
the  opposite  shore  his  butternut  suit  Avas  pretty  thoroughly 
soaked,  but  without  stopping  to  dry  it,  he  mounted  hia 
horse,  which  he  found  straying  about  the  woods,  rode  on 
to  Stevenson,  and  reported  to  Colonel  Harker.  An  ex- 
pedition for  the  capture  of  this  band — afterwards  ascer- 


868  NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT. 

tained  to  be  Captain  Roundtree's  company — was  just 
about  starting,  when  orders  were  received  to  evacuate 
the  place  and  fall  back  to  Nashville  with  the  remainder 
of  Buell's  army. 

The  battery  went  no  farther  backward  than  Nashville, 
remaining  there  during  the  famous  investment  of  the  city 
and  until  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  again  reached  it. 
Meanwhile,  Newcomer  was  occasionally  employed  by 
General  Negley  as  a  detective ;  but  most  of  the  time  was 
spent  with  his  command.  Early  in  December  the  police 
and  scout  system  was  fully  organized  and  in  successful 
operation.  Our  former  scout,  thinking  that  he  could 
serve  the  Government  to  better  advantage  in  the  busi- 
ness with  which  he  was  so  familiar,  made  application  to 
Colonel  Truesdail  for  employment  as  a  scout  and  spy. 
The  colonel,  pleased  with  his  appearance  and  conversa- 
tion, at  once  made  an  enga.^ement  with  him,  and  procured 
his  detail  for  that  special  service.  Having  previously 
made  the  acquaintance  of  one  Cale  Harrison,  a  livery- 
stable  keeper,  he  now  called  on  him,  and,  exhibiting  a 
forged  certificate  of  discharge,  told  him  that  he  was  on 
his  way  to  the  rebel  army.  Harrison,  of  course,  was 
highly  pleased  to  hear  it,  and  gave  him  some  valuable 
hints  and  information  for  his  guidance  in  the  matter. 
There  was,  he  said,  a  man  living  on  the  Charlotte  pike, 
by  the  name  of  Spence,  whose  son  was  an  aide-de-camp 
on  the  staff  of  General  Polk,  and  who  would  undoubtedly 
assist  him  in  getting  South  and  give  him  a  letter  of 
introduction  to  his  son.  In  this  event  the  road  would 
be  clear,  and  no  difficulty  need  be  apprehended  iu  mak- 
ing the  trip. 

Thus  directed,  he  set  forth  from  Nashville  on  a  scout 
South,  with  saddle-bags  well  filled  with  fine-tooth  combs, 
needles,  pins,  thread,  &c.,  and  carrying  two  fine  navy 
revolvers.  Going  directly  to  Spence's,  he  introduced 
himself,  said  he  had  called  by  recommendation  of  Harri- 
son, made  known  his  business,  and  asked  for  a  letter  to 


NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT.  369 

his  son,  on  General  Polk's  staff.  Spence  received  him 
cordially,  but  would  not  furnish  him  with  the  desired 
letter.  He  referred  him,  however,  to  J.  Wesley  Ratcliffe, 
liviug  about  one  mile  from  Franklin,  on  the  Lewisburg 
pike,  as  a  person  likely  to  render  him  very  material 
assistance.  This  Ratcliffe  was  a  rebel  agent  for  the  pur- 
chase of  stock  and  commissary  stores,  and  was  well 
known  throughout  the  whole  country.  Pushing  on,  he 
accordingly  called  at  Ratcliffe's,  and  made  his  acquaint- 
ance. When  informed  of  his  plans  and  purposes  and 
shown  the  goods,  Ratcliffe  was  much  pleased,  and  soon 
became  very  friendly,  advising  him  to  go  to  Shelbyville, 
where  such  articles  were  greatly  needed  and  could  easily 
be  disposed  of. 

Newcomer  accordingly  started  for  Shelbyville,  and  for 
some  time  met  with  no  incidents  on  the  way.  Between 
Caney  Springs  and  Rover,  however,  he  fell  in  with  a 
band  of  rebel  cavalry  belonging  to  General  Buford's  com- 
mand, who,  on  being  made  acquainted  with  his  business, 
advised  him  not  to  go  to  Shelbyville,  a'd  considerable 
trouble  might  be  experienced  there.  Their  bushy  shocks 
of  hair  suggesting  that  they  were  combless,  he  offered 
his  stock  for  sale,  chatting  meanwhile  with  them  about 
matters  and  things  in  general  and  in  that  vicinity  in 
particular.  Combs  which  cost  two  dollars  per  dozen  he 
sold  for  two  dollars  each,  and  other  articles  in  proportion, 
and,  by  the  time  his  trading  was  finished,  had  ascertained 
that  General  Buford  was  stationed  at  Rover  to  guard  a 
large  mill  full  of  flour  and  meal,  the  size  of  his  command, 
the  number  and  calibre  of  his  guns,  and  other  items  of 
importance,  and  also  what  generals  and  troops  were  at 
Shelbyville. 

The  cavalrymen  now  wished  him  to  go  back  to  Nash- 
ville and  bring  them  some  pi^^tols  on  his  return.  This 
he  agreed  to  do,  and,  having  obtained  all  the  information 
he  cared  for  at  this  time,  turned  his  horse  about  and  once 
more   set  his  face  toward  Nashville.     The  two  pistols 

2J: 


370  NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT. 

■w'hicTi  he  had  carried  with  him  he  had  not  shown,  and 
still  had  them  in  his  possession,  which  circumstance  was 
the  cause  of  a  slight  adventure  on  the  way  home. 

He  had  proceeded  but  a  little  way  when  he  met  with 
a  small  squad  of  cavalry,  who  halted  him,  as  usual,  and 
demanded  his  name,  business,  and  where  he  was  going. 
These  questions  satisfactorily  answered,  he  was  next 
asked  if  he  had  any  pistols  about  him.  He  replied  that 
he  had  two,  and  was  forthwith  ordered  by  a  rough-looking 
Texan  to  produce  them,  which  was  hardly  done  before 
they  were  coolly  appropriated  by  his  interrogator.  Ee- 
monstrance  Avas  followed  by  abuse  and  threats  of  violence, 
and  it  was  only  by  the  intervention  of  other  parties  that 
the  matter  was  compromised  by  the  sale  of  the  pistols  at 
firty  dollars  each,  and  our  traveller  allowed  to  go  on  his 
way  rejoicing.  Without  interruption  head-quarters  were 
reached,  and  a  report  of  operations  duly  made, 

Eemaining  two  days  at  Nashville,  he  started  again, 
with  three  pistols  and  the  balance  of  the  old  stock  of  goods. 
The  first  night  was  spent  at  Ratclifte's,  and  the  next  day 
both  went  to  ^lurfreesborough  in  a  buggy.  Ratcliflfe 
had  business  to  transact  with  the  provost- marshal,  and  a 
number  of  the  generals  and  inferior  officers  to  see,  and 
Newcomer  was  taken  round  and  introduced  to  all  as  a 
colaborer  in  the  cause  of  the  South.  During  his  four 
days'  stay  he  was  all  over  the  town,  through  several  of 
the  camps,  in  many  of  the  houses,  drank  whiskey  with 
General  Frank  Cheatham,  went  to  a  grand  party  at  the 
court  house,  and  made  love  to  a  dozen  or  more  young 
hidies  of  Secession  proclivities — aided  in  all  this  by  a 
perfect  selfpossession.  an  easy,  graceful  manner  and  a 
v.'inning  face.  In  addition  to  pleasure-seeking  and  love- 
making,  he  also  drove  a  thriving  business  in  the  sale  of 
pistols  and  other  contraband  goods,  and  with  pockets 
filled  with  money  and  head  stored  Avith  information, 
returned  with  Ratcliffe  to  his  house,  and  thence  to  Nash- 
ville— having  first  made  arrangements  with  the  former  to 


NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT.  371 

accompany  him  to  Shelbyville  the  next  day.  Arriving 
at  Nashville  after  dark,  he  remained  there  until  morning, 
and  then  made  preparations  and  started  for  a  third  trip. 

With  a  pair  or  two  of  cotton-cards,  a  lot  of  pistol-caps, 
and  some  smaller  knick-knacks,  as  passports  to  favor,  he 
set  forth  once  more  to  join  Ratcliffe ;  but,  having  been 
unavoidably  delayed  in  starting,  he  found  him  already 
gone.  Nothing  was  now  to  be  done  but  to  push  boldly 
ahead  in  the  hope  of  overtaking  him  on  the  road  or 
meeting  him  at  Shelbyville.  With  the  exception  of 
Ratcliffe,  not  a  soul  there  knew  him.  Trusting  to  good 
fortune,  he  travelled  on,  and  reached  Shelbyville  in  due 
season  without  trouble. 

The  usual  questions  were  asked  him  by  guards  and 
pickets,  to  all  of  which  he  replied  that  he  lived  in  David- 
son County,  was  going  to  visit  some  friends  in  the  44th 
Tennessee  Regiment,  and  had,  moreover,  a  small  stock 
of  contraband  goods  for  sale.  These  answers  proving 
satisfactory,  he  was  passed  through,  and  reached  the  town 
early  in  the  forenoon.  Most  of  the  day  he  spent  in  riding 
about,  looking  into  quartermasters'  and  commissary 
depots,  inquiring  the  names  of  officers,  the  number  of 
troops,  commanders,  &c.,  until  he  had  ascertained  all  that 
he  wished.  By  this  time  night  was  drawing  near,  and  it 
was  high  time  to  think  about  getting  out  of  town ;  for 
should  he  remain  after  dark  he  was  certain  to  be  arrested. 
Ratclift'e  was  nowhere  to  be  seen ;  and  on  inquiry  he  was 
told  that  he  had  gone  to  Atlanta,  Georgia,  on  the  train, 
and  that  nobody  knew  when  he  would  be  back.  Plere 
was  a  desperate  state  of  affairs.  Get  out  of  town  he  must, 
and  to  get  out  he  must  have  a  pass.  It  was  easy  enough 
to  come  in,  but  verv  difficult  to  get  out.  Nobody  knew 
him;  and,  in  fact,  for  once  in  his  life,  he  was  at  a  loss 
what  to  do. 

While  thus  troubled,  he  met  some  citizens  of  Davidson 
County  who  had  been  over  the  river  to  the  camps  of 
Cheatham  and  McCown's  division  and  were  now  on  their 


372  NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT. 

way  to  tlie  provost-marshal  to  procure  return  passes. 
Misery  loves  company,  and,  with  long  face,  he  told  them 
his  trouble — dressing  it  up  with  a  considerable  amount 
of  fiction  to  suit  the  occasion.  By  way  of  adding  ear- 
nestness to  his  entreaty  and  to  open  a  sure  path  to  their 
sympathies,  he  bought  a  bottle  of  whiskey  and  invited 
them  all  to  drink  with  him.  The  liquor  warmed  their 
hearts  as  well  as  stomachs;  and  while  hobnobbing  to- 
gether he  asked  them  if  they  wouldn't  vouch  to  the  pro- 
vost-marshal and  thus  enable  him  to  procure  a  pass. 
Being  now  in  a  condition  to  love  the  world  and  every- 
body in  it,  they  promised  to  do  so,  and  in  due  season  all 
went  for  passes.  His  seven  newly-made  friends  found 
no  difficulty  in  their  suit,  their  names  being  all  written 
on  a  single  pass;  but  our  scout  was  left  unnoticed.  The 
attention  of  the  provost-marshal  was  called  to  him,  when 
that  functionary  asked  if  any  of  them  were  personally 
acquainted  with  him. 

Though  rebels,  they  would  not  lie — possibly  they 
thought  it  was  not  necessary — and  answered,  "No,"  but 
they  Avould  vouch  for  him.  But  that  would  not  do. 
His  situation  was  now  worse  than  ever.  He  not  only 
had  no  pass,  but  had  not  the  slightest  chance  of  getting 
one.  The  wdiiskey  investment  had  proved  a  losing 
speculation ;  and  he  knew  not  where  to  turn  for  relief. 
The  loungers  about  the  office  began  to  eye  him  suspi- 
ciously, and  even  the  dogs  seemed  disposed  to  growl  and 
cnap  at  him  as  having  no  business  there.  The  place  was 
getting  too  hot  for  safety ;  and  his  only  hope  of  escape 
was  to  hurry  out  and  lose  himself  in  the  crowd. 

His  new  friends  were  still  outside,  waiting  for  him; 
and  with  them  a  long  consultation  was  held  as  to  what  had 
better  be  done  about  getting  away,  as  every  moment 
added  to  his  already  serious  danger.  Finally,  one  of  the 
party  suggested  that  he  should  go  with  them  anyhow — 
that  the  pickets  would  not  be  likely  to  notice  that  his 
name  was  not  on  the  pass,  there  being  so  many  already 


NEWCOMER  THE  SCOTTT.  873 

on  it.  la  deAiult  of  anything  better,  this  proposition  was 
agreed  to,  and  all  set  out  together.  Newcomer,  however, 
was  still  far  from  easy  about  the  matter,  and  was  fearful 
that  the  plan  would  not  work. 

As  they  were  journeying  along,  he  proposed  to  the  one 
who  had  the  pass  that  he  should  be  allowed  to  write  his 
own  name  on  the  pass  with  a  pencil,  and  if  any  objection 
should  be  made  to  it  they  might  say  that  he  belonged  to 
the  party  but  did  not  come  in  until  the  pass  was  made 
out,  and  that  the  provost-marshal,  to  save  writing  a  new 
one,  had  inserted  the  name  in  pencil-mark.  This  was 
assented  to  and  done.  The  amended  pass  carried  them 
safely  through,  and  the  last  cloud  of  anxiety  was  lifted 
from  his  troubled  mind. 

Some  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  having  been  passed  over 
pleasantly,  Newcomer  purposely  lagged  behind  and  al- 
lowed the  others  to  get  far  ahead,  when  he  turned  off'  and 
struck  across  to  the  LcAvisburg  and  Franklin  pike. 
Travelling  on  this  about  ten  miles,  he  stopped  for  the 
night,  with  five  of  Wheeler's  cavahy,  at  the  house  of  a 
man  who  had  a  son  in  Forrest's  command.  Starting  the 
next  morning  betimes,  he  reached  Ratcliffe's  the  same 
evening,  but  found  he  had  not  yet  reached  home. 
Stopping  a  few  moments,  he  passed  on  through  Franklin 
towards  Nashville.  He  had  gone  some  seven  miles,  and 
w^as  near  Brentwood,  when  he  saw  four  cavalrymen  riding 
furiously  down  a  lane  just  ahead  of  him.  They  and  our 
hero  reached  the  entrance  at  the  same  moment.  The  leader 
of  the  squad — who  proved  to  be  Captain  Harris,  a  scout  of 
John  Morgan's,  and  who,  as  well  as  his  three  men,  was 
very  drunk — roughly  halted  him,  and,  riding  up,  pistol 
in  hand,  shouted — 

'Who  are  you,  and  where  do  you  live?" 

"  My  name  is  Newcomer,  and  I  live  six  miles  from 
Nashville,  near  Brent  Spence's,"  was  the  ready,  respectful 
reply. 

Spence  was  well  known  to  all,  and  no  further  trouble 


ST 4  NEWCOMER  THE  SCOTTT. 

was  apprehended ;  but  the  drunken  captain  was  not  so 
easily  satisfied.     He  soon  asked — 

"  Where  have  you  been,  and  what  in  the are  you 

doing  here  ?" 

"  I  have  been  to  Shelby ville  to  see  Spence's  son,  and  I 
took  along  some  contraband  goods  to  sell." 

"  You  can  go  back  to  Franklin  with  me,  sir !" 

Protestation  was  unavailing;  and  without  more  ado 
he  turned  about  and  all  started  towards  Franklin,  On 
the  way  Harris  asked  if  he  had  any  arms  with  him,  and, 
on  being  told  that  he  had  two  fine  revolvers  and  some 
cartridges,  ordered  him  to  give  them  up,  which  was  done. 
"With  a  savage  leer  he  then  said — 

"  I  know  all  about  you.     You're  a Yankee  spy. 

You  have  been  going  backwards  and  forwards  here  so 
much  that  the  citizens  of  Franklin  have  suspected  you 
for  a  long  time,  and  have  reported  you.  I  am  satisfied 
that  you  are  a  Yankee  spy ;  and  I  am  going  to  hang  you, 

you,     Bragg  has  ordered  me  never  to  bring  in  spies, 

but  to  shoot  or  hang  them  like  dogs,  on  the  spot ;  and  I 
am  going  to  make  a  beginning  with  you,  now,  this  very 
night." 

"  If  you  do  that,"  was  the  reply,  "  you'll  take  the  life 
of  a  good  and  true  man.  I  can  show  by  J.  W.  Ratcliffe 
that  I  am  a  true  Southerner,  that  I  have  done  much  good 
for  the  cause — very  likely  much  more  than  you  have — 
and  that  I  am  doing  good  every  day  I  live." 

"  Captain,"  said  one  of  the  men,  "  it  may  be  that  he  is 
an  important  man  to  our  cause;  and  you  had  better  see 
Ratclifie  and  inquire  into  his  case." 

Harris  studied  a  moment,  and  finally  concluded  to  go 
with  the  prisoner  to  Ratclifte's  and  confer  about  the 
matter — at  the  same  time  assuring  him  that  it  was  of  no 
use,  for  he  should  certainly  hang  him  anyhow.  At 
Franklin  all  stopped  to  drink,  and  Harris  and  his  men 
became  beastly  drunk.  Reeling  into  their  saddles,  they 
were  once  more  on  their  way  to  Ratcliffe's,  but  had  gone 


WEWCOMEE  THE  SCOUT.  3T5 

only  a  short  distance,  when  Harris  wheeled  his  horse  and 
hiccougjhed  out — 

"Boys,  there's  no  use  in  fooling.     I  am  satisfied  this 

fellow's  a Yankee  spy;  and  here's  just  as  good  a 

place  as  we  can  find  to  hang  him.  Take  the  halter  off 
that  horse's  neck  and  bring  it  here." 

It  was  indeed  a  fitting  place  in  which  to  do  foul  mur- 
der. Not  a  house  was  to  be  seen;  and  the  road  wound 
through  one  of  those  cedar  thickets  so  dense  that  even  in 
mid-da\''  it  is  almost  dark  within  them.  It  was  now 
night,  and  the  sombre  shade  even  more  gloomy  than  ever, 
as  Harris  jumped  from  his  horse,  and,  taking  the  halter, 
made  a  noose  of  it,  and,  fitting  it  around  the  neck  of  the 
unlucky  scout,  drew  it  up  uncomfortably  tight,  until,  in 
fact,  it  was  just  about  strangling  him. 

Now  or  never  was  the  time  to  expostulate  and  entreat. 
In  a  moment  it  might  be  to  late ;  and  then  farewell  home, 
friends,  and  all  the  joys  of  life !  It  is  not  hard  to  die  in 
peace,  surrounded  by  weeping  friends,  or  even  to  meet 
the  dread  king  in  the  shock  and  excitement  of  battle; 
but  to  hang  like  a  dog! — the  idea  is  sickening,  appalling; 
and  it  is  no  sign  of  cowardice  to  shrink  from  it.  One 
more  effort,  then,  for  life,  even  if  it  be  to  supplicate  for 
mercy  from  a  drunken  rebel. 

"Captain,"  said  he,  with  great  feeling,  "it  is  wrong  to 
take  a  man's  life  on  so  slight  a  suspicion.  It  is  a  vast 
responsibility  to  take  upon  one's  self;  and  you  may  do 
something  for  which  you  will  be  sorry  by-and-by,  in 
your  calmer  moments,  and  for  which  you  may  be  even 
punished  when  it  comes  to  the  knowledge  of  General 
Bragg."    _ 

To  which  came  the  rough  and  heartless  answer,  "  I 
know  my  business ;  and  I  don't  want  any  advice  from  a 

Yankee   spy.     When   I    do,   I'll   let   you    know. 

Come  along,"  shouted  he,  seizing  the  rope  and  dragging 
his  victim  towards  a  tree.     "  I  know  my  duty,  and  am 


376  NEWCOMER  THE  SCOTTT, 

going  to  do  it,  too.  Come  on.  men,  and  let's  swing  tip 
this  rascally  spy," 

They  refused  to  come  to  his  assistance,  however,  say- 
ing that  they  were  as  ready  as  he  to  do  their  duty,  but 
they  wanted  to  be  a  little  better  satisfied  about  the  matter. 
It  was  only  half  a  mile  to  EatclifFe's,  and  it  would  be  a 
very  easy  thing  to  go  and  see  what  he  said  about  it, 
Harris  would  not  listen  a  moment,  and  again  ordered 
them  to  come  and  help  him,  which  they  dared  not  longer 
refuse. 

The  case  now  appeared  hopeless.  Death  stared  him  in 
the  face,  and  life,  with  all  its  memories  and  pleasures, 
seemed  passing  dreamily  away.  Looking  into  the  cedars 
hanging  heavy  with  darkness,  they  seemed  the  entrance 
to  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  beyond  which  lay 
the  infinite  and  mysterious  future.  On  the  verge  of  the 
grave  life  was  yet  sweet — yet  worth  striving  for ;  and, 
as  a  last  effort,  the  unfortunate  man  went  up  to  Harris, 
placed  his  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  asked  him  if  he 
would  promise,  on  the  word  and  honor  of  a  gentleman, 
that  he  would  go  to  General  Bragg  and  give  him  a  true 
statement  of  the  affair,  narrating  every  circumstance  as 
it  actually  occurred.  Then,  turning  to  the  men,  he  asked 
them  if  they  would  do  it,  provided  the  captain  did  not. 
Less  hardened  than  the  captain,  they  feelingly  answered 
that  they  would;  and  the  earnestness  with  which  they 
replied  was  proof  enough  that  they  would  make  good 
their  words.  This  set  the  captain  to  thinking.  He 
evidently  didn't  like  the  idea  of  Bragg's  hearing  about  it, 
and,  after  some  moments'  reflection,  concluded  to  go  to 
Eatcliffe's  and  see  what  he  would  say.  The  rope  was 
removed,  and  they  resumed  their  journey — the  captain 
still  swearing  it  would  do  no  good,  as  nothing  could  save 
him,  for  he  was  bound  to  hang  him  that  very  night. 

Life  still  hung  on  a  thread,  however.  In  the  afternoon, 
when  Newcomer  had  been  there,  Ratcliffe  had  not  re- 
turned, and  if  he  were  not  now  at  home  nothing  would 


NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT.  't^tl 

prevent  Harris  from  carrying  out  his  threat,  which  he 
seemed  determined  to  execute.  That  half-mile  was  the 
longest  ride  Newcomer  ever  took.  No  lights  were  to  be 
seen ;  but  it  was  near  midnight,  and  it  might  be  that  all 
were  abed.  Harris  left  the  prisoner  at  the  gate,  in  charge 
of  the  other  three,  and  went  np  to  the  house.  He 
knocked  on  the  window,  and  Newcomer  thought  it  wa3 
the  thumping  of  his  own  heart.  Fortunately  Ratcliffe 
was  at  home,  and  came  hurriedly  to  the  door,  without 
stopping  to  dress.  The  two  conversed  in  a  low  tone  for 
some  time,  when  Ratcliffe  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "I'll  be 

if  you  do !"  and  instantly  started  down  towards  the 

gate.  Coming  up  to  the  prisoner,  and  throwing  one  arm 
around  his  neck,  while  he  took  his  hand  in  his,  he  said 
to  him — ■ 

"  Great  God  I  Harry,  how  fortunate  that  I  am  at  home  1" 

After  they  had  talked  a  while  together,  Harris  came 
■up  again,  and  called  Ratcliffe  to  one  side,  where  they  had 
another  protracted  conversation  in  a  low,  whispering 
tone.  While  they  were  thus  engaged,  a  large  owl  on  a 
tree  near  by  began  hooting,  and  was  speedily  answered 
by  another  some  distance  up  the  road.  The  three  men 
mounted  their  horses  at  once  and  galloped  to  the  road, 
shouting,  at  the  top  of  their  voices — 

"Captain,  we're  surrounded!  This  is  a  trap.  Don't 
you  hear  the  signals  ?" 

The  captain  stepped  to  the  road,  listened  a  moment, 
and  then,  with  a  volley  of  oaths,  ordered  them  back  for 

"  a  pack  of  fools  to  be  scared  at  an  owl."     Still 

quaking  with  fear,  which  did  not  entirely  leave  them 
"until  they  were  fairly  away  froin  the  place,  they  resumed 
their  places,  the  owls  hooting  lustily  all  the  while. 

Harris  and  Ratcliffe  continued  their  conversation  for  a 
few  minutes,  when  the  former  came  towards  Newcomer 
with  a  pistol  and  some  papers  in  each  hand,  saying,  as 
be  gave  them  to  him — 

"  I  release  you,  and  restore  your  property,  on  the  word 


S78  NEWCOMER  THE  SCOTJT. 

of  Quartermaster  Ratcliffe.  He  assures  me  that  you  are 
one  of  the  most  important  men  in  the  South,  and  a  secret 
agent  of  the  Confederacy.  I  am  very  sorry  that  this 
thing  has  occurred,  and  will  make  any  amends  in  my 
power.  If  you  desire,  I  will  go  with  you  to  Charlotte 
pike  as  an  escort,  or  will  do  you  any  favor  you  may 
ask." 

"No,"  said  Ratclifre,  "he  must  come  in  and  stay  all 
night  with  me.     I  can't  let  him  go  on  to-night." 

While  standing  at  the  gate,  during  this  conversation, 
our  released  prisoner  sold  his  pistols  to  the  cavalrymen 
for  Tennessee  mimey.  Just  at  this  moment,  too,  a  squad  of 
cavalry  belonging  to  Starns's  command  came  by.  One  of 
them,  to  whom  Newcomer  had  sold  a  pistol  some  weeks 
before,  recognized  him  at  once,  and  shook  hands  with  him 
very  cordially.  He  corroborated  Ratcliffe's  statement, 
saying  that  Newcomer  was  on  very  important  business  for 
the  South,  which  was  rendered  still  more  so  by  the  fight 
having  begun  at  Stewart's  Creek.  A  short  time  was 
passed  in  general  conversation,  when  all  left  except  New- 
comer, who  hitched  his  horse  to  the  porch  and  went  in  with 
EatclifFe.  When  sufficient  time  had  elapsed  for  them  to 
be  well  out  of  the  way,  Newcomer  said  his  business  was 
of  too  much  importance  to  brook  delay,  and  he  must  be 
off  at  once.  Ratcliffe  said  if  he  must  go  he  could  not  urge 
him  to  stay.  "  I  will  go  with  you  to  your  horse,"  said  he ; 
"  meanwhile  take  this  to  keep  you  from  further  trouble. 
If  anybody  stops  you  again,  just  show  them  this,  and  you 
will  be  passed  at  once." 

So  saying,  he  took  from  his  pocket  a  large  government 
envelope — of  which  he  had  an  abundance — and  wrote  on 
it,  "All  right,  J.  W.  RatcVjfer 

Armed  with  this,  he  started  again,  and  reached  the 
pickets  of  the  5th  Kentucky  Cavalry,  who  brought  him 
into  the  city.  It  was  nearly  three  o'clock  in  the  morning 
when  he  arrived  at  the  police-office :  but  the  colonel  was 


NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT.  879 

Still  up,  and  immediately  telegraphed  his  report  to  head- 
quarters. 

The  next  day,  nothing  daunted,  he  set  out  again,  and 
went,  as  usual,  first  to  Ratcliffe's,  where  he  remained  all 
night — thence  the  next  morning  travelled,  by  way  of 
Hart's  Cross-Roads  and  Caney  Spring,  to  Murfreesbo- 
rough,  reaching  that  place  on  the  Saturday  evening  clos- 
ing the  week  of  battles  at  Stone  River.  Riding  about 
the  town,  he  observed  that  nearly  every  house  in  it  was 
a  hospital.  Everything  was  confusion  and  excitement. 
Immense  crowds  of  straggling  soldiers  and  citizens  were 
gathered  about  the  court-house  and  depot.  Commissary 
and  quartermaster  stores,  artillery,  ammunition,  and  camp 
equipage,  were  being  loaded  on  the  cars,  and  trains  were 
starting  as  fast  as  loaded.  An  evacuation  was  evidently 
on  hand,  and  that  right  speedily;  and  he  determined  to 
leave  as  soon  as  possible.  The  only  trouble  was  how  to 
get  out. 

After  wandering  around  some  time,  seeking  an  oppor- 
tunity, he  came  across  a  train  of  small  wagons,  with  which 
the  neighboring  farmers  had  come  to  take  home  their 
wounded  sons  and  brothers.  Quick  to  embrace  opportu- 
nities, he  saw  that  now  was  his  chance  to  escape.  Dis- 
mounting from  his  horse,  he  led  him  by  the  bridle,  and 
walked  demurely  behind  one  of  these  wagons,  as  though 
it  was  in  his  charge.  Clad  in  butternut,  and  in  every 
outward  appearance  resembling  the  others  accompanying 
it,  the  deceit  was  not  discovered,  and  he  safely  j)assed  all 
the  pickets.  It  was  now  nearly  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  he  rode  rapidly  on,  in  a  cold,  driving  rain,  until 
fairly  benumbed.  Some  nine  miles  out,  he  came  to  a 
deserted  school-house,  which  he  unceremoniously  entered, 
leading  his  horse  in  after  him.  AVithin,  a  large  fire- 
place and  an  abundance  of  desks  suggested  the  idea  of  a 
fire,  and  a  huge  blaze  roaring  and  crackling  on  the  hearth 
soon  demonstrated  its  practicability.     The  next  step  waa 


§80  NEWCOMER  (THE  SCOtfT, 

to  wring  the  water  out  of  his  well-soaked  garments  and 
partially  dry  them. 

Both  horse  and  man  enjoyed  themselves  here  until  near 
daybreak,  when  he  mounted  again  and  rode  on  to  Rat- 
cliffe's,  reaching  there  about  three  o'clock  Sunday  after- 
noon. Here  he  remained  awhile  to  converse  with  his 
friend,  refresh  the  inner  man,  and  care  for  his  horse — 
neither  having  eaten  a  mouthful  since  the  morning  before. 
Ratcliffe  was  rejoiced  to  see  him,  and  wished  him  to  re- 
main longer ;  but  he  pushed  ahead,  and  reached  Nashville 
late  that  evening,  wellnigh  worn  out  with  hunger,  fatigue, 
and  want  of  sleep.  His  report  was  immediately  tele- 
graphed to  General  Rosecrans ;  but  he  had  been  so  long 
in  making  his  way  back  that  the  general  did  not  receive 
it  until  he  had  himself  entered  Murfreesborough. 

Late  the  next  night  he  started  again,  with  a  single 
pistol  and  a  small  stock  of  needles,  pins,  and  thread. 
On  Monday  evening  he  reached  Ratclifie's,  and,  staying 
but  two  hours,  rode  on  two  miles  farther  to  the  house  of 
one  M.  H.  Perryear,  with  whom  he  remained  all  night. 
Thence  he  travelled,  by  way  of  Hart's  Cross-Roads, 
towards  Caney  Springs,  but  before  reaching  the  latter 
place  fell  in  with  some  of  Wheeler's  cavalry,  with  whom 
he  rode  along  friendly  and  companionly  enough.  Some 
of  them  were  old  acquaintances  and  very  confidential. 
They  were,  they  said,  just  on  their  way  to  burn  a  lot  of 
Federal  wagons  at  Lavergne  and  Triune,  and,  deeming 
bim  a  good  fellow  well  met,  invited  him  to  go  with  them. 
Thinking  that  there  might  be  some  chance  to  save  the 
wagons,  he  declined  the  invitation,  urging  the  pressing 
nature  and  importance  of  his  mission  as  an  excuse.  It 
was  soon  found,  however,  that  every  avenue  of  escape 
northward  was  guarded,  and  the  whole  country  filled 
with  the  cavalry,  of  whorn  there  were,  in  all,  about  three 
thousand.  There  was  nothing  to  do,  then,  but  to  leave 
the  wagons  to  their  fate  and  push  on,  which  he  did,  and, 
arriving  at  Caney  Springs,  remained  there  over  night. 


NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT.  381 

TKe  next  morning  the  cavalry  began  to  loiter  back 
from  their  marauding  expedition  in  squads  of  from  fifteen 
to  a  hundred  or  more,  and  from  them  he  learned  the 
complete  success  of  the  enterprise.  Making  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a  lieutenant,  he  was  told  that  they  were  going 
at  once  to  Harpeth  Shoals,  to  burn  a  fleet  of  boats  which 
was  then  on  its  way  to  Nashville.  This  determined  him 
to  abandon  the  idea  of  going  to  Shelbyville,  and  he 
accompanied  a  detachment  back  as  far  as  Hart's  Cross- 
Roads,  where  they  went  on  picket  duty  at  a  meeting- 
house by  the  road.  Bidding  them  good-day,  he  started 
on  alone  towards  Ratclift'e's.  Stopping  at  Perryear's,  he 
was  told  that  Forrest  was  in  Franklin,  that  the  roads 
were  all  guarded,  and  that  there  was  a  picket  ju^t  at 
Eatcliffe's  gate.  Perryear  then  gave  him  an  open  letter 
of  introduction,  recommending  him  to  all  officers  and 
soldiers  of  the  Confederate  army  as  a  true  and  loyal 
Southern  man,  engaged  in  business  of  the  highest  import- 
ance to  the  government.  With  this  he  again  set  out, 
and,  as  he  had  been  told,  found  a  picket  at  Ratcliffe's  gate. 
Requesting  to  be  admitted,  he  was  asked  if  he  was  a  soldier, 
and,  on  answering  negatively,  was  passed  in  without  hesi- 
tation. Ratclifte  corroborated  Perry  ear's  statement,  say- 
ing, furthermore,  that  Forrest  was  very  strict,  and  that  it 
would  be  much  better  for  him  to  remain  there  until  they 
had  all  gone  down  the  river. 

"  But,"  added  he,  "  if  you  must  go,  I'll  go  with  you  as 
far  as  Franklin  and  help  you  through." 

The  town  was  found  to  be  full  of  cavalry,  who  were 
conscripting  every  man  whom  they  could  lay  hands  on. 
Ratcliffe  introduced  his  companion  to  Will  Forrest — a 
brother  of  the  general,  and  captain  of  his  body-guard. 
The  captain  was  profuse  of  oaths  and  compliments,  and, 
withal,  so  very  friendly  that  Newcomer  at  once  told  him 
his  story  and  business,  all  of  which  was  indorsed  by 
Batclifi'e.     More  oaths  and  compliments  followed.     The 


882  NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT. 

captain  was  glad  to  know  so  important  a  man,  and.  hj 
way  of  business,  asked  him  if  he  had  any  pistols  to  sell. 

"No,"  was  the  reply;  "I  have  nothing  but  a  single 
navy  revolver,  which  I  carry  for  my  own  defence,  and 
which  I  wouldn't  like  to  part  with.  But  I  am  just  going 
to  Nashville  for  more  goods,  and,  fearing  trouble  in  get- 
ting away,  I  thought  I  would  come  and  see  about  it." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  there  will  be  none,"  said  the  captain. 
"  The  general  wants  to  know  something  about  Nashville, 
and  will  be  very  apt  to  send  you  there  to  get  the  informa- 
tion for  him.     Come ;  let's  go  and  see  about  it." 

The  two  set  forth,  and  found  the  general,  surrounded 
by  the  usual  crowd,  at  his  hotel.  Calling  him  to  one 
side,  the  captain  pointed  out  his  new  friend,  and,  explain- 
ing who  and  what  he  was,  concluded  by  remarking  that 
he  wished  to  go  to  Nashville  for  goods,  and  would  bring 
him  any  information  he  desired.  The,  general  not  just 
then  in  the  best  of  humor,  swore  very  roundly  that  he 
knew  as  much  about  Nashville  as  he  wanted  to — it  was 
men  he  wanted — and  concluded  by  ordering  the  captain 
to  conscript  his  friend  into  either  his  own  or  some  other 
company.  Turning  on  his  heel,  he  walked  briskly  away, 
leaviufT  his  brother  to  his  ansfer  and  our  would-be  rebel 
spy  to  his  disappointment.  The  captain  fumed  with 
great,  sulphurous  oaths,  and  consoled  Newcomer  thus 
wise : — 

"  He's  a fool  if  he  is  my  brother.     You  are  the 

last  man  I'll  ever  bring  to  him  to  be  insulted.  ■  But  3'ou 
shan't  be  conscripted.  Come  with  me,  and  I'll  help  you 
through.  You  can  go  with  my  company,  but  not  as  a 
soldier,  and  I  will  send  you  to  Nashville  myself.  My 
company  always  has  the  advance,  and  there'll  be  plenty 
of  chances." 

Making  a  virtue  of  necessity,  this  proposition  was 
gladly  accepted,  and  all  started  on  the  march.  By  this 
time  Wheeler  had  come  up  and  taken  the  lead,  Forrest 
following  in  the  centre,  and  Starns  bringiiig  up  the  rear. 


NEWCOMER  THE  SCOUT.  883 

About  eight  miles  from  Franklin  tbe  ■uliole  command 
encamped  for  the  night,  and  our  hero  slept  under  the 
same  blanket  with  Captain  Forrest  and  his  lieutenant — a 
Texan  ranger  named  Scott,  whose  chief  amusement 
seemed  to  consist  in  lassooing  dogs  while  on  the  march, 
and  listening  to  their  yelping  as  thej  were  pitilessly 
dragged  along  behind  him.  Towards  midnight,  one  of 
their  spies — a  Northern  man,  named  Sharp,  and  formerly 
in  the  plough  business  at  Nashville — came  in  from  the 
Cumberland  Eiver.  Captain  Forrest  introduced  New- 
comer to  him  as  a  man  after  his  own  heart — "  true  na 
steel,  and  as  sharp  as  they  make  'cm." 

The  two  spies  became  intimate  at  once,  and  Sharp 
belied  his  name  by  making  a  confidant  of  his  new  ac- 
quaintance. He  had  formerly  been  in  Memphis,  and 
acted  as  a  spy  for  the  cotton-burners.  More  recently  he 
had  been  employed  with  Forrest;  and  now  he  had  just 
come  from  Ilarpetli  Shoals,  where  he  had  learned  all 
about  the  fleet  coming  up  the  river,  and  to-morrow  he 
was  to  guide  the  expedition  down  to  a  place  where  they 
could  easily  be  captured  and  burned.  Early  next  morn- 
ing the  march  was  resumed,  and  at  the  crossing  of  the 
Hardin  pike  General  Forrest  and  staff  were  found  wait- 
ing for  them.  Upon  coming  up,,  the  captain  was  ordered 
to  take  his  company  clown  the  Hardin  pike,  go  on  picket 
there,  and  remain  until  eleven  o'clock ;  when,  if  nothing 
was  to  be  seen,  he  was  to  rejoin  the  expedition.  These 
instructions  were  promptly  carried  out — a  good  position 
being  taken  on  a  hill  some  eight  miles  from  Nashville, 
from  which  could  be  had  a  view  of  the  whole  country  for 
many  miles  in  every  direction.  About  ten  o'clock  the 
captain  came  to  Newcomer  and  said  he  was  going  to 
Bend  him  to  Nashville  himself;  at  the  same  time  giving 
him  a  list  of  such  articles  as  he  wished,  consisting  princi- 
pally of  gray  cloth,  staff-buttons,  &;c. 

As  may  be  imagined,  no  time  was  lost  in  starting,  and 
still  less  in  getting  into  Nashville,  where  he  arrived  in 


S84  THRILLING  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  RAILWAY. 

due  season  to  save  tlie  fleet,  A  force  was  at  once  sent 
out  on  tlie  Hillsborough  pike  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the 
rebels,  and  another  on  the  Charlotte  pike  to  attack  them 
directly.  The  latter  force  succeeded  in  striking  their 
rear-guard,  and  threw  them  into  confusion,  when  they 
hastily  fled  cross  the  Harpeth  River,  which  was  at  the 
time  very  high.  Our  forces,  being  principally  infantry, 
could  not  cross  in  pursuit,  but  the  troops  on  the  Hills- 
borough pike  succeeded  in  killing,  wounding,  and  cap- 
turing considerable  numbers  of  them.  They  were 
thoroughly  scattered,  however,  and  the  fleet  was  saved 
— which  was  the  main  object  of  the  expedition. 


THEILLING  ADVENTUEE  ON  THE  EAILWAT. 

Among  the  many  incidents  that,  during  the  late  rebel- 
lion, were  connected  with  that  great  national  artery,  the 
Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railway,  is  one  that  I  will  relate. 

In  the  fall  of  1861,  having  been  detained  by  business 
in  the  town  of  Cumberland,  ]\Id.,  I  was  at  last  about  to 
start  for  Wheeling,  when  I  learned  by  a  dispatch  that 
the  road  was  occupied  below  Uarper's  Ferry  by  a  force 
of  rebels,  and  therefore  no  train  would  pass. 

This  proved  to  be  true  in  reference  to  ordinary  trains, 
but  a  "special,"  with  which  was  the  Hon.  Mr.  Pierpont, 
and  a  few  other  notabilities,  had  passed  before  the  rebels 
cut  the  track,  and  was  therefore  approaching.  On  inquiry, 
I  found  that  the  engineer  of  the  coming  train  had  been 
one  of  my  old  chums,  ere  I  had  discarded  engine-driving 

for  more  profitable  business.      My  friend,  Joe  M , 

was  a  cool,  bold,  skilful  engineer,  and  as  generous  as 
reckless  of  danger. 

As  I  expected,  I  no  sooner  saw  him  and  stated  my 
wish  to  go  up  the  road,  than  he  swore  that,  special  or 
no  special,  I  should  ride  with  him,  if  for  nothing  but 


THRILLING  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  RAILWAY.  S85 

to  see  the  'last  time"  his  engine,  ""Wildfire,"  would 
make. 

As  we  clashed  rapidly  along  and  were  passing  through 
Black  Oak  Bottom,  a  couple  of  ill-looking  fellows  in  citi- 
zen's dress  fired  at  the  engineer,  but,  doing  no  damage, 
merely  provoked  a  laugh  of  derision  from  him  for  their 
want  of  marksmanship.  On  arriving  at  Oakland,  Md.,  we 
were  disagreeably  surprised  by  receiving  a  telegram, 
informing  us  that  a  party  of  rebels  were  making  extra- 
ordinary haste  to  reach  the  railway  at  a  point  many  mile3 
ahead  of  us.  Also  they  seemed  to  know  who  the  special 
contained,  and  would  therefore  use  all  endeavors  to  cap- 
ture or  kill  us. 

There  was  but  one  car  behind  the  engine,  and  in  it  was 
briefly  discussed  the  question  of  go  or  stay,  while  Joe  was 
having  the  tender  refilled  with  wood  and  water. 

Mr.  Pierpont's  business  was  too  urgent  to  admit  of  any 
possible  delay;  two  ojr  three  others  concluded  to  risk  the 
trip,  and  I — well,  if  it's  not  too  egotistical  to  say  so — I 
had  run  risks  on  railways  too  often  to  back  out  because 
there  was  danger  ahead,  while  the  rest  concluded  to  stay 
and  trust  to  luck  for  the  opportunity  of  getting  away. 

Just  as  we  were  about  to  start,  the  fireman  making  a  mis- 
step on  the  "running  board,"  fell  and  struck  the  ground 
with  such  force  as  to  break  his  arm.  Joe  hurriedly  picked 
the  poor  fellow  up,  but  time  was  precious  just  then,  so 
leaving  him  to  the  care  of  the  gentlemen  who  had  accom- 
panied us,  he  started  directly  towards  me,  asking  me  to 
come  and  "run"  for  him,  as,  having  no  fireman,  he  would 
have  more  than  he  could  do.  I  told  him,  however,  to 
consider  me  his  fireman  for  the  rest  of  the  trip,  as  he  was 
best  acquainted  with  the  road;  so  without  any  more  ado 
I  doffed  my  coat,  we  jumped  on,  and  away  we  went,  past 
hamlets,  through  wildernesses  of  stunted  bushes,  up  grade 
and  down  hill,  at  a  speed  rarely  equalled.  Our  light  train 
made  firing  an  easy  task  for  me,  and  I  had  frequent 
leisure  to  scan  the  beautiful  ranges  of  the  Alleghunies 
25 


38ft  THRILLING  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  RAILWAY. 

along  wTiich:  we  skirted.  Joe  was  sitting,  as  was  usual 
with  him,  with  his  left  hand  on  the  throttle  lever,  and  his 
body  half  out  of  the  side  window  of  the  *-'cab,"  that  he 
might  the  better  scan  the  track  ahead. 

A  few  miles  south  of  the  famous  Cheat  River  Bridge 
is  a  deep  mountain-gorge  with  precipitious  rocky  sides. 

It  is  shaped  like  an  hour-glass,  wide  at  each  end,  but 
tapering  each  way  toward  the  middle.  The  track  runs 
for  quite  a  distance  along  one  side  of  the  gorge,  makes  a 
very  abrupt  turn  to  cross  the  chasm,  a  very  deep  one,  in 
a  straight  line,  and  then,  still  curving  inwardly,  follows 
the  gorge  in  a  line  nearly  parallel  with  the  track  on  the 
opposite  side,  for  three-fourths  of  a  mile. 

We  were  pitching  along  with  that  peculiar  rocking, 
bounding  motion,  so  different  from  the  jar  of  ordinary 
fast  speed.  As  we  swept  to  the  top  of  a  grade  around 
the  side  of  a  hill  that  commanded  a  view  of  the  gorge — 
Joe  and  I  both  on  the  lookout —  we  saw,  at  a  moment's 
glance,  enough  to  make  us  concentrate  our  thinking 
faculties,  and  act  in  a  hurry,  whatever  was  best  to  be 
done. 

There,  on  the  straight  track,  just  at  the  near  edge  of 
the  gorge,  a  lot  of  men,  in  gray  uniform,  were  hastily 
piling  up  some  old  ties,  logs,  &;c. ;  while  at  the  point 
where  the  curve  was  sharpest — before  reaching  the  gorge 
— were  several  more  tugging  furiously  at  a  rail,  one 
end  of  which  seemed  to  baffle  them,  as  they  pulled  it 
outwards.  We  were  within  a  mile  when  we  discovered 
them,  and  as  each  noticed  them,  the  shout  came  simulta- 
neously from  both  of  us — "  The  wrong  side  of  the  curve  1" 
The  ignorant  fools  were  pulling  out  the  inside  rail,  instead 
of  the  outside.  In  the  latter  case  nothing  could  have 
saved  us  from  running  off'  the  track,  and  probably  into 
the  gorge.  Our  single  brakesman,  seeing  the  danger — I 
suppose  from  habit — was  commencing  to  tighten  the 
brake,  but  at  a  look  from  Joe  I  signalled  "ofi" brakes;" 
Joe,  meanwhile,  opening  the  throttle  to  its  widest  exteut 


THRILLING  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  RAILWAY.  38t 

as  "we  dashed  down  the  grade  at  a  positively  frightful 
velocity. 

As  we  neared  them,  a  party  of  them  huddled  together 
near  the  track.  I  seized  a  large  stick  of  Avood,  intending, 
if  possible,  to  hurt  "  somebody."  We  were  going  alto- 
gether too  swift  to  fear  their  taking  aim  at  ns;  and  for 
that  matter,  I  suppose,  they  considered  our  destruction 
such  a  certainty  that  firing  at  us  would  be  needless.  I 
was  poising  the  big  stick  of  wood,  and  guessing  at  the 
rate  of  speed — I've  had  some  practice  throwing  parcels 
from  trains  in  motion — when  Joe  suddenly  pulled  the 
whistle-rope.  The  hoarse  shriek  seemed  to  startle  them 
for  an  instant ;  they  huddled  closer  together,  and  I  tossed 
the  stick  outwards  and  downwards.  I  had  barely  time 
to  see  it  crash  through  the  group  with  the  force  of  a 
thunderbolt,  when,  with  a  jarring  plunge,  the  wheels  on 
one  side  struck  the  naked  ties.  That  part  of  the  trouble 
we  had  feared  but  little,  as  the  impetus  of  the  engine  was 
almost  sure  to  make  it  mount  the  track  again.  On  the 
track  agcain,  but  a  few  rods  ahead  of  us,  was  the  formid- 
able  barricade,  and  beyond  that  the  yawning  chasm.  Joe 
was  standing  up  now,  with  eyes  blazing,  still  holding  the 
throttle  wide  o]ien,  as  he  braced  himself  for  the  shock. 
I  had  grasped  the  break-rod  of  the  tender  the  instant  I 
threw  the  piece  of  wood.  Crash — my  hold  didn't  avail 
me,  as  I  was  pitched  head  over  heels  against  the  fire-box, 
and  laid  flat  on  my  back  on  the  foot-board  or  floor  of 
the  engine. 

Joe  was  as  suddenly  jerked  half  around,  his  back 
striking  the  little  door  in  front  of  wdiere  he  had  stood, 
breaking  the  door  and  shivering  the  glass  to  atoms. 
But  we  were  through ;  how,  w^e  couldn't  tell,  except  that 
we  were  still  on  the  track,  and  thundering  over  the 
gorge.  Joe's  spirits  rose  with  the  occasion.  Extricating 
himself  almost  as  suddenly  as  he  had  been  deposited  in 
the  little  glass  door,  he  jerked  a  tin  flask  from  his  pocket, 
sprung  on  top  of  the  tender,  and  from  thence  to  the  root 


888  THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY. 

of  tlie  cab.  Steadying  himself  for  a  moment,  with  "his  face 
toward  the  rebels,  he  shouted  "Good-bye,"  made  them  a 
low  bow,  and  took  a  drink,  perfectly  regardless  of  the  white 
puffs  of  smoke,  as  one  after  another  discharged  their 
pieces  at  him,  as  he  afterwards  explained,  "the  engine 
made  too  much  noise  for  him  to  hear  the  bullets,  and 
they  didn't  seem  to  be  hitting  anybody." 

After  having,  in  spite  of  sore  bones,  performed  a  jig, 
which  he  had  extemporized  for  that  occasion  for  the 
express  edification  of  the  rebs,  Joe  descended  from  his 
perch,  and  deliberately  shutting  off  steam,  stopped. 

We  were  still  in  sight  of  them,  though  at  a  tolerably 
safe  distance,  and  now  saw  a  group  of  them  standing 
near  several  men  who  had  been  wounded,  perhaps  some 
killed,  by  that  "  irrepressible"  stick  of  wood. 

Our  damages  were  a  few  bruises  each,  but  no  serious 
hurts.  Our  engine  suffered  the  loss  of  the  pilot  or  cow- 
catcher and  headlight,  the  front  of  the  smoke-box  was 
stove  in,  besides  sundry  dents  and  bruises  on  the  brass 
casings  of  the  cylinders,  but  for  running  purposes 
absolutely  uninjured;  the  rebels  having  piled  the  logs 
squarely  across  the  top  of  the  track,  the  point  of  the  cow- 
killer  had  gone  under  them,  and,  though  broken  by  the 
shock,  had  raised  them  sufficiently  to  keep  them  from 
under  the  wheels,  while  the  engine  dashed  them  right 
and  left  into  the  gorge. 

The  rebels  seeing  us  stop,  started  in  pursuit,  but  aa  we 
found  nothing  serious  to  impede  our  further  progress,  and, 
as  in  their  case,  "distance  lent  enchantment  to  the  view," 
we  were  off  again  in  high  spirits,  and  without  further 
adv^enture  worth  recounting,  arrived  safely  at  our  desti- 
nation. 

Poor  Joe,  after  being  .shot  at  so  often  as  to  have 
acquired  a  sovereign  contempt  for  rebel  bullets,  was  shot 
dead  about  a  year  ago  while  running  a  government  engine 
near  Chattanooga. 


THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY.  S89 

THE  GREAT  CONSPIEACY. 

John  "Wilkes  Booth  was  the  projector  of  the  plot 
agranst  the  President,  which  culminated  in  the  taking 
of  that  good  man's  life.  He  had  rolled  under  his  tongue 
the  sweet  paragraphs  of  Shakspeare  referring  to  Brutus, 
as  his  father  had  so  well,  that  the  old  man  named  one 
son  Junius  Brutus,  and  the  other  John  Wilkes,  after  the 
wild  English  agitator,  until  it  became  his  ambition,  like 
the  wicked  Lorenzino  de  Medici,  to  stake  his  life  upon 
one  stroke  for  fame,  the  murder  of  a  ruler  obnoxious  to 
the  South. 

Booth  shrank  at  first  from  murder,  until  another  and 
less  dangerous  resolution  failed.  This  was  no  less  tlian 
the  capture  of  the  President's  body,  and  its  detention  or 
transportation  to  the  South.  I  do  not  rely  for  this  asser- 
tion upon  his  sealed  letter,  where  he  avows  it ;  there  has 
been  found  upon  a  street  within  the  city  limits  a  house 
belonging  to  one  Mrs.  Greene,  mined  and  furnished  with 
\inderground  apartments,  furnished  with  manacles  and 
all  the  accessories  to  private  imprisonment.  Here  the 
President,  and  as  many  as  could  be  gagged  and  conveyed 
away  with  him,  were  to  be  concealed  in  the  event  of 
failure  to  run  them  into  the  Confederacy.  Owing  to  his 
failure  to  group  around  him  as  many  men  as  he  desired, 
Booth  abandoned  the  project  of  kidnapping;  but  the 
house  was  discovered,  as  represented,  ready  to  be  blown 
up  at  a  moment's  notice. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Booth  devised  his  triumphal 
route  through  the  South.  The  dramatic  element  seems 
to  have  been  never  lacking  in  his  design,  and  with  all  his 
base  purposes  he  never  failed  to  consider  some  subsequent 
notoriety  to  be  enjoyed.  He  therefore  shipped,  before 
the  end  of  1861,  his  theatrical  wardrobe  from  Canada  to 
Nassau.     After  the  commission  of  his  crime  he  intended 


390  THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY. 

to  reclaim  it,  and  "star"  through  the  South,  drawing 
many,  as  much  by  his  crime  as  his  abilities. 

AVhen  Booth  began,  "on  his  own  responsibility,"  to 
hunt  for  accomplices,  he  found  his  theory  at  fault.  The 
bold  men  he  had  dreamed  of  refused  to  join  him  in  the 
rash  attempt  at  kidnapping  the  President,  and  were  too 
conscientious  to  meditate  murder.  All  those  who  pre- 
sented themselves  were  military  men,  unwilling  to  be 
subordinate  to  a  civilian  and  a  mere  play  actor,  and  the 
mortified  bravo  found  himself  therefore  compelled  to  sink 
to  a  petty  rank  in  the  plot  or  to  make  use  of  base  and 
despicable  assistaftts.  His  vanity  found  it  easier  to  com- 
pound with  the  second  alternative  than  the  first. 

Ilere  began  the  first  resolve,  which,  in  its  mere  animal 
state,  we  may  name  courage.  Booth  found  that  a  tragedy 
in  real  life  could  no  more  be  enacted  without  greasy-faced 
and  knock-kneed  supernumeraries  than  upon  the  mimic 
stage.  Your  "First  Citizen,"  who  swings  a  stave  for 
Marc  Antony,  and  drinks  hard  porter  behind  the  flies,  is 
very  like  the  bravo  of  real  life,  who  murders  between  his 
cocktails  at  the  nearest  bar.  Wilkes  Booth  had  passed 
the  ordeal  of  a  garlicky  green-room,  and  did  not  shrink 
from  the  broader  and  ranker  green-room  of  real  life.  He 
assembled  around  him,  one  by  one,  the  cut-throats  at 
whom  his  soul  would  have  revolted,  except  that  he  had 
become,  by  resolve,  a  cut-throat  in  himself. 

About  this  time  certain  gentlemen  in  Canada  began  to 
be  unenviably  known.  I  make  no  charges  against  those 
whom  I  do  not  know,  but  simply  say  that  the  Confederate 
agents,  Jacob  Thompson,  Larry  McDonald,  Clement  Clay, 
and  some  others,  had  already  accomplished  enough  villany 
to  make  Wilkes  Booth,  on  the  first  of  the  present  year, 
believe  that  he  had  but  to  seek  an  interview  with  them. 

He  visited  the  provinces  once  certainly,  and  three  times 
it  is  believed,  stopping  in  Montreal  at  St.  Lawrence  Hall, 
and  banking  four  hundred  and  fifty-five  dollars  odd  at 
the  Ontario  Bank.     This  was  his  own  money.     I  have 


THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY.  391 

myself  seen  liis  bank-book  with  the  single  entry  of  this 
amount.  It  was  found  in  the  room  of  Atzeroth  at  Kirk- 
wood's  Hotel. 

Some  one  or  all  of  these  agents  furnished  Booth  with 
a  murderer — the  fellow  W(Xk1,  or  Payne,  who  stabbed 
Mr.  Seward  and  was  caught  at  Mrs.  Surratt's  house  in 
Wasiiington.  He  was  one  of  three  Kentucky  brothers, 
all  outLaws,  and  had  himself,  it  is  believed,  accompanied 
one  of  his  brothers,  who  is  known  to  have  been  at  St. 
Albans  on  the  day  of  the  bank  delivery.  This  Payne, 
besides  being  positively  identified  as  the  assassin  of  the 
Sewards,  had  no  friends  nor  haunts  in  -Washington.  He 
w'as  simply  a  dispatched  murderer,  and  after  the  night 
of  the  crime  struck  northward  for  the  frontier,  instead 
of  southward  in  the  company  of  Booth.  The  proof  of 
this  will  follow  in  the  course  of  the  article. 

Half  applauded,  half  rebuffed  by  the  rebel  agents  in 
Canada,  Booth's  impressions  of  his  visit  were  just  those 
which  would  whet  him  soonest  for  the  tragedy.  His 
vanity  had  been  fed  by  the  assurance  that  success 
depended  upon  himself  alone,  and  that  as  he  had  the 
responsibility  he  would  absorb  the  fame ;  and  the  method 
of  correspondence  was  of  that  dark  and  mysterious  shape 
which  powerfully  operated  upon  his  dramatic  tempera- 
ment. 

What  could  please  an  actor,  and  the  son  of  an  actor, 
better  than  to  mingle  as  a  principal  in  a  real  conspiracy, 
the  aims  of  which  were  pseudo-patriotic,  and  the  ends  so 
astounding  that  at  its  coming  the  whole  globe  would 
reel.  Booth  reasoned  that  the  ancient  world  would  not 
feel  more  sensitiv^ely  the  death  of  Julius  Cassar  than  the^ 
new,  tlie  sudden  taking  off  of  Abraham  Lincoln. 

And  so  he  grew  into  the  idea  of  murder.  It  became 
his  business  thought.  It  was  his  recreation  and  his  study. 
He  had  not  worked  half  so  hard  for  histrionic  success  as  for 
his  terrible  graduation  into  an  assassin.  He  had  fought 
often  on  the  boards,  and  had  seen  men  die  in  well-imitated 


S93  THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACT. 

torror,  with  flowing  blood  upon  the  keen  sword's  edge, 
and  the  strong  stride  of  mimic  victory  with  which  he 
flourished  his  weapon  at  the  closing  of  the  curtain.  He 
embraced  conspiracy  like  an  old  diplomatist,  and  found 
in  the  woman  and  the  spot  subjects  tor  emulation. 

Southeast  of  Washington  stretches  a  tapering  peninsula, 
composed  of  four  fertile  counties,  which  at  the  remote  tip 
make  Point  Lookout,  and  do  not  contain  any  town  within 
them  of  more  than  a  few  hundred  inhabitants.  Tobacco 
has  ruined  the  land  of  these,  and  slavery  has  ruined  the 
people.  Yet  in  the  beginning  they  were  of  that  splendid 
stock  of  Calvert  and  Lord  Baltimore,  but  retain  to-day 
only  the  religion  of  the  peaceful  founder.  I  mention  as 
a  self-evident  fact,  that  in  this  as  in  other  States,  the 
peculiar  complexion  of  religion  had  nothing  whatever 
to  do  with  secession.  The  western  shore  of  Maryland  is 
a  noxious  and  pestilential  place  for  patriotism. 

The  country  immediately  outside  of  the  District  of 
Columbia,  to  the  south,  is  named  Prince  George's,  and 
the  pleasantest  village  of  this  county,  close  to  "Washington, 
is  called  Surrattsville.  This  consists  of  a  few  cabins  at  a 
crossroad,  surrounding  a  fine  old  hotel,  the  master  whereof, 
giving  the  settlement  his  name,  left  the  property  to  his 
wife,  who  for  a  long  time  carried  it  on  with  indifferent 
success.  Having  a  son  and  several  daughters,  she  moved 
to  Washington  soon  after  the  beginning  of  the  war,  and 
left  the  tavern  to  a  trusty  friend — one  John  Lloyd. 
Surrattsville  has  gained  nothing  in  patronage  or  business 
from  the  war,  except  that  it  became"  at  an  early  date  a 
rebel  post  office.  The  great  secret  mail  from  Matthias 
Creek,  Virginia,  to  Port  Tobacco,  struck  Surrattsville, 
and  thence  headed  off"  to  the  east  of  Washington,  going 
meanderingly  north.  Of  this  post  route  Mrs.  Surratt  was 
a  manageress;  and  John  Lloyd,  when  he  rented  her  hotel, 
assumed  the  responsibility  of  looking  out  for  the  mail,  as 
well  as  the  duty  of  making  Mrs.  Surratt  at  home  when 
she  chose  to  visit  him. 


THE  GREAT  COXSPIRACT.  393 

So  Surrattsville,  only  ten  miles  from  "^A^casbington,  has 
been  throughout  the  ^var  a  seat  of  conspiracy.  It  was 
like  a  suburb  of  Richmond,  reaching  quite  up  to  the 
rival  capital;  and  though  the  few  Unionists  on  the 
peninsula  knew  its  reputation  well  enough,  nothing  of  the 
sort  came  out  until  after  the  murder. 

Treason  never  found  a  better  agent  than  Mrs.  Surratt. 
She  was  a  large,  masculine,  self-possessed  female,  mistress 
of  her  house,  and  as  lithe  a  rebel  as  Belle  Boyd  or 
Mrs.  Greensborough.  She  had  not  the  flippancy  and 
menace  of  the  first,  nor  the  social  power  of  the  second; 
but  the  rebellion  has  found  no  fitter  agent. 

At  her  country  tavern  and  Washington  home.  Booth 
was  made  welcome,  and  there  besjan  the  muttered  murder 
against  the  nation  and  mankind. 

The  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Surratt  in  Lower  Maryland 
undoubtedly  suggested  to  Booth  the  route  of  escape,  and 
made  him  known  to  his  subsequent  accomplices.  Last 
fall  he  visited  the  entire  region,  as  far  as  Leonardstown, 
in  St.  Mary's  County,  professing  to  buy  land,  but  really 
making  himself  informed  upon  the  rebel  post  stations, 
with  all  the  leading  affiliations  upon  whom  he  could 
depend.  At  this  time  he  bought  a  map,  a  fellow  to  which 
I  have  seen  among  Atzeroth's  effects,  published  at  Buffalo 
for  the  Rebel  Government,  and  marking  at  hap-hazard. 
all  the  Maryland  villages,  but  without  tracing  the  high- 
roads at  all.  The  absence  of  these  roads,  it  will  be  seen 
hereafter,  very  nearly  misled  Booth  during  his  crippled 
flight. 

When  Booth  cast  around  him  for  assistants,  he  natu- 
rally selected  those  men  whom  he  could  control.  The 
first  that  recommended  himself  was  one  Harold,  a  youth 
of  inane  and  plastic  character,  carried  away  by  the 
example  of  an  actor,  and  full  of  execrable  quotations, 
going  to  show  that  he  was  an  imitator  of  the  master  spirit, 
both  in  text  and  admiration.  This  Harold  Avas  a  gunner, 
and  therefore  versed  in  arms ;  he  had  traversed  the  whole 


394  THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY. 

lower  portion  of  Maryland,  and  was  therefore  a  geographer 
as  well  as  a  tool.  His  friends  lived  at  every  farm-house 
between  Washington  and  Leonardsville,  and  he  was 
respectably  enough  connected,  so  as  to  make  his  associa- 
tion creditable  as  well  as  useful. 

Young  Surratt  does  not  appear  to  have  been  a  puissant 
spirit  in  the  scheme;  indeed,  all  design  and  influence 
therein  was  absorbed  by  Mrs.  Surratt  and  Booth.  The 
latter  was  the  head  and  heart  of  the  plot;  Mrs.  Surratt 
was  his  anchor,  and  the  rest  of  the  boys  were  disciples 
to  Iscariot  and  Jezebel.  John  Surratt,  a  youth  of  strong 
Southern  physiognomy,  beardless  and  lanky,  knew  of  the 
murder  and  connived  at  it.  "  Sam"  Arnold  and  one 
McLaughlin  were  to  have  been  parties  to  it,  but  backed 
out  in  the  end.  They  all  relied  upon  Mrs.  Surratt,  and 
took  their  "  cues"  from  Wilkes  Booth. 

The  conspiracy  had  its  own  time  and  kept  its  own 
counsel.  Murder,  except  among  the  principals,  was  sel- 
dom mentioned  except  by  genteel  implication.  But  they 
all  publicly  agreed  that  Mr.  Lincoln  ©ught  to  be  shot, 
and  that  the  North  was  a  race  of  fratricides.  Much  was 
said  of  Brutus,  and  Booth  repeated  heroic  passages,  to  the 
delight  of  Harold,  who  learned  them  also,  and  wondered 
if  he  was  not  born  to  greatness. 

In  this  growing  darkness,  where  all  rehearsed  cold- 
hearted  murder,  Wilkes  Booth  grew  great  of  stature.  He 
had  found  a  purpose  consonant  with  his  evil  nature  and 
bad  influence  over  weak  men ;  so  he  grew  moodier,  more 
vigilant,  more  plausible.  By  mien  and  temperament  he 
was  born  to  handle  a  stiletto.  We  have  no  face  so 
markedly  Italian ;  it  would  stand  for  Ciesar  Borgia  any 
day  in  the  year.  All  the  rest  were  swayed  or  persuaded 
by  Booth;  his  schemes  were  three  in  order: — 

1st.  To  kidnap  the  President  and  Cabinet,  and  run 
them  South  or  blow  them  up. 

2d.  Kidnapping  failed,  to  murder  the  President  and 
the  rest,  and  seek  shelter  in  the  Confederate  capital. 


THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY.  395 

3d,  The  rebellion  failed,  to  be  its  avenger,  and  throw 
the  country  into  consternation,  while  he  escaped  by  the 
unfrequented  parts  of  Maryland. 

When  this  last  resolution  had  been  made,  the  plot  was 
both  contracted  and  extended.  There  were  made  two 
distinct  circles  of  confidants,  those  aware  of  the  meditated 
murder,  and  those  who  might  shrink  from  murder, 
though  willing  accessories  for  a  lesser  object.  Two  col- 
leagues for  blood  were  at  once  accepted,  'Payne  and 
Atzeroth. 

Tlie  former  I  have  sketched ;  he  is  believed  to  have 
visited  Washington  once  before,  at  Booth's  citation ;  for 
the  murder  was  at  first  fixed  for  the  day  of  inauguration. 
Atzeroth  was  a  fellow  of  German  descent,  who  had  led 
a  desperate  life  at  Port  Tobacco,  where  he  was  a  house 
painter.  He  had  been  a  blockade-runner  across  the 
Potomac,  and  a  mail-carrier.  When  Booth  and  Mrs. 
Surratt  broke  the  design  to  him,  with  a  suggestion  that 
there  was  wealth  in  it,  he  embraced  the  offer  at  once,  and 
bought  a  dirk  and  pistol.  Payne  also  came  from  the 
North  to  Washington,  and,  as  fate  would  have  it,  the 
President  was  announced  to  appear  at  Ford's  theatre  in 
public.  Tlien  the  resolve  of  blood  was  reduced  to  a 
definite  moment. 

On  the  night  before  the  crime  Booth  found  one  on 
whom  he  could  rely.  John  Surratt  was  sent  noilhward 
b}^  his  mother  on  Thursday.  Sam  Arnold  and  McLaugh- 
lin, each  of  whom  was  to  kill  a  Cabinet  officer,  grew 
pigeon-livered  and  ran  away.  Harold,  true  to  his  par- 
tiality, lingered  around  Booth  to  the  end;  Atzeroth  went 
so  fiir  as  to  take  his  knife  and  pistol  to  Kirkwood's,  where 
President  Johnson  was  stopping,  and  hid  them  under  the 
bed.  But  either  his  courage  failed,  or  a  trifling  accident 
deranged  his  ])lan.  But  Payne,  a  professional  murderer, 
stood  "game,"  and  fought  his  way  over  prostrate  figures 
to  his  sick  victim's  bed.  There  was  great  confusion  and 
terror  among  the  tacit  and  rash  conspirators  on  Thursday 


396  THE  GREAT  CONSPIUACT. 

night.  They  head  looked  upon  the  plot  as  of  a  melodrama, 
and  found  to  their  horror  that  John  "Wilkes  Booth  meant 
to  do  murder. 

Six  weeks  before  the  murder  young  John  Surratt  had 
taken  two  splendid  repeating  earbines  to  Surrattsville,  and 
told  John  Lloyd  to  secret  them.  The  latter  made  a  hole 
in  the  wainscoting  and  suspended  them  from  strings,  so 
that  they  fell  within  the  plastered  wall  of  the  room  below. 
On  the  very  afternoon  of  the  murder  Mrs.  Surratt  was 
driven  to  Surrattsville,  and  she  told  John  Lloyd  to  have 
the  carbines  ready,  because  they  would  be  called  for  that 
night.  Harold  was  made  quartermaster,  and  hired  the 
horses.  He  and  Atzeroth  were  mounted  between  eight 
o'clock  and  the  time  of  the  murder  and  riding  about  the 
streets  together. 

The  whole  party  was  prepared  for  a  long  ride,  as  their 
spurs  and  gauntlets  show.  It  may  have  been  their  design 
to  ride  in  company  to  the  Lower  Potomac,  and  by  their 
numbers  exact  subsistence  and  transportation. 

Lloyd,  I  may  interpolate,  ordered  his  wife,  a  few  days 
before  the  murder,  to  go  on  a  visit  to  Allen's  Fresh. 
She  says  she  does  not  know  why  she  was  so  sent  away, 
but  swears  that  it  is  so.  Harold,  three  weeks  before 
the  murder,  visited  Port  Tobacco,  and  said  that  the  next 
time  the  boys  heard  of  him  he  would  be  in  Spain;  he 
added  that  with  Spain  there  was  no  extradition  treaty. 
He  said  at  Surrattsville  that  he  meant  to  make  a  barrel 
of  money,  or  his  neck  would  stretch. 

Atzeroth  said  that  if  he  ever  came  to  Port  Tobacco 
again  he  would  be  rich  enough  to  buy  the  whole  ]-)lace. 

Wilkes  Booth  told  a  friend  to  go  to  Ford's  on  Friday 
night  and  see  the  best  acting  in  the  world. 

At  Ford's  theatre,  on  Friday  night,  there  were  many 
standers  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  door,  and  along  the 
dress  circle  in  the  direction  of  the  private  box  where  the 
President  sat. 

The   play  went   on   pleasantly,  though  Mr.  Wilkes 


THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY.  39t 

Booth,  an  observer  of  the  audience,  visited  the  stage  and 
took  note  of  the  position.  His  alleged  associate,  the 
stage  carpenter,  then  received  quiet  orders  to  clear  the 
passage  by  the  wings  from  the  prompter's  post  to  the 
stage  door.  All  this  time,  Mr.  Lincoln,  in  his  family 
circle,  unconscious  of  the  death  that  crowded  fast  upon 
him,  witnessed  the  pleasantry  and  smiled,  and  felt  heart- 
ful  of  gentleness. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  murmur  near  the  audience  door, 
as  of  a  man  speaking  above  his  bound.     He  said: — 

"Nine  o'clock  and  forty-five  minutes!" 

These  words  were  reiterated  from  mouth  to  mouth 
until  they  passed  the  theatre  door,  and  were  heard  upon 
the  sidewalk. 

Directly  a  voice  cried,  in  the  same  slightly  raised 
monotone — 

"Nine  o'clock  and  fifty  minutes!" 

This  also  passed  from  man  to  man,  until  it  touched  the 
street  like  a  shudder. 

"Nine  o'clock  and  fifty-five  minutes!"  said  the  same 
relentless  voice,  after  the  next  interval,  each  of  which 
narrowed  to  a  lesser  span  the  life  of  the  good  President. 

Ten  o'clock  here  sounded,  and  conspiring  echo  said  in 
reverberation — 

"  Ten  o'clock !" 

So  like  a  creeping  thing,  from  lip  to  lip  went — 

"Ten  o'clock  and  five  minutes!" 

An  interval. 

"  Ten  o'clock  and  ten  minutes !" 

At  this  instant  Wilkes  Booth  appeared  in  the  door  of 
the  theatre,  and  the  men  who  had  repeated  the  time  so 
faithfully  and  so  ominously,  scattered  at  his  coming  as  at 
some  warning  phantom. 

All  this  is  so  dramatic  that  I  fear  to  excite  a  laugh 
when  I  write  it.  But  it  is  true  and  proven,  and  I  do  not 
say  it;  but  report  it. 

All   evil   deeds  go  wronsr.     While  the  click  of  the 


398  THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY, 

pistol,  taking  the  President's  life,  went  like  a  pang  tlirough 
the  theatre,  Payne  was  spilling  blood  in  Mr.  Seward's 
house  from  threshold  to  sick  chamber.  But  Booth's 
broken  leg  delayed  him  or  made  him  lose  his'  general 
calmness,  and  he  and  Harold  lelt  Payne  to  his  fate. 

I  have  not  adverted  to  the  hole  bored  with  a  gimlet  in 
the  entry  door  of  Mr,  Lincoln's  box  and  cut  out  with  a 
penknife.  The  theory  that  the  pistol-ball  of  Booth  passed 
through  this  hole  is  now  exploded.  When  Booth  leaped 
from  the  box  he  strode  straight  across  the  stage  by  the  foot- 
lights, reaching  the  prompter  s  post,  which  is  immediately 
behind  that  private  box  opposite  to  Mr.  Lincoln.  From 
this  box  to  the  stage  door  in  the  rear,  the  passage-way  leads 
behind  the  ends  of  the  scenes,  and  is  generally  either 
closed  up  by  one  or  more  withdrawn  scenes,  or  so  narrow 
that  only  by  doubling  and  turning  sidewise  can  one  pass 
along.  On  this  fearful  night,  however,  the  scenes  were  so 
adjusted  to  the  murderer's  design  that  he  had  a  free  aisle 
from  the  foot  of  the  stage  to  the  exit  door. 

Within  fifteen  minutes  after  the  murder  the  wires  were 
severed  entirely  round  the  city,  excepting  only  a  secret 
wire  for  Government  uses,  which  leads  to  Old  Point.  1 
am  told  that  by  this  wire  the  Government  reached  the  for- 
tifications around  Washington,  first  telegraphing  all  the 
way  to  Old  Point,  and  then  back  to  the  out-lying  forts. 
This  information  comes  to  me  from  so  many  credible 
channels  that  I  must  concede  it. 

Payne  having,  as  he  thought,  made  an  end  of  Mr. 
Seward,  which  would  have  been  the  case  but  for  Eobin- 
son,  the  nurse,  mounted  his  horse  and  attempted  to  find 
Booth.  But  the  town  was  in  alarm,  and  he  galloped  at 
once  for  the  open  country,  taking,  as  he  imagined,  the 
proper  road  for  the  East  Branch.  lie  rode  at  a  killing 
pace,  and  when  near  Port  Lincoln,  on  the  Baltimore  pike, 
his  horse  threw  him  headlong.  Afoot  and  bewildered,  ho 
resolved  to  return  to  the  city,  whose  lights  he  could 
plainly  see;    but  before  doing  so  he  concealed  himself 


THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY.  S9d 

some  time,  and  made  some  almost  absurd  efforts  to  dis- 
guise himself.  Cutting  a  cross  section  from  the  woollen 
undershirt  which  covered  his  muscular  arm,  he  made  a 
rude  cap  of  it,  and  threw  away  bis  bloodj'-  coat.  This  has 
since  been  found  in  the  woods,  and  blood  has  been  found 
also  on  his  bosom  and  sleeves.  He  also  spattered  himself 
plentifully  with  mud  and  clay,  and  taking  an  abandoned 
pick  from  the  deserted  intrenchments  near  by,  he  struck 
out  at  once  for  Washington. 

By  the  providence  which  always  attends  murder,  he 
reached  Mrs.  Surratt's  door  just  as  the  officers  of  the 
GovM-nment  were  arresting  her.  They  seized  Payne  at 
once,  who  had  an  awkward  lie  to  urge  in  his  defence — • 
that  he  had  come  there  to  dig  a  trench.  That  night  he 
dug  a  trench  deep  and  broad  enough  for  both  of  thetn  to 
lie  in  forever.  They  washed  his  hands,  and  found  them 
soft  and  womanish ;  his  pockets  contained  tooth  and  nail 
brushes,  and  a  delicate  pocket-knife.  All  this  apparel 
consorted  ill  with  his  assumed  character. 

Coarse,  and  hard,  and  calm,  Mrs.  Surratt  shut  up  her 
house  after  the  murder,  and  waited  with  her  daughters 
till  the  officers  came.  She  Avas  imperturbable,  and 
rebuked  her  girls  for  weeping,  and  would  have  gone  to 
jail  like  a  statue,  but  that  in  her  extremity  Payne  knocked 
at  her  door.  He  had  come,  he  said,  to  dig  a  ditch  for 
Mrs.  Surratt,  whom  he  very  well  knew.  But  ISIrs.  Sur- 
ratt protested  that  she  had  never  seen  the  man  at  all,  and 
had  no  ditch  to  clean. 

"  How  fortunate,  girls,"  she  said,  "  that  these  officers 
are  here;  this  man  might  have  murdered  us  all." 

Her  effrontery  stamps  her  as  worthy  of  companionship 
with  Booth.  Payne  has  been  identified  by  a  lodger  of 
Mrs.  Surratt's  as  having  twice  visited  the  house  under 
the  name  of  Wood. 

Atzeroth  had  a  room  almost  directly  over  Vice-Presi- 
dent Johnson's.  He  had  all  the  materials  to  do  murder, 
but  lost  spirit  or  opportunity.     He  ran  away  so  hastily 


400  THE  GREAT  CONSPlRxiCY* 

that  all  bis  arms  and  baggage  were  discoverpd;  a 
tremendous  bowie-knife  and  a  Colt's  cavalry  revolver 
were  found  between  the  mattresses  of  his  bed.  Booth's 
coat  was  also  found  there,  showing  conspired  flight  in 
company,  and  in  it  three  boxes  of  cartridges,  a  map  of 
Maryland,  gauntlets  for  riding,  a  spur,  and  a  handkerchief 
marked  with  the  name  of  Booth's  mother — a  mother's 
souvenir  for  a  murderer's  pocket. 

Atzeroth  fled  alone,  and  was  found  at  the  house  of  his 
uncle,  in  Montgomery  County,  Md.  I  do  not  know  that 
any  instrument  of  murder  has  ever  made  me  thrill  as 
when  I  drew  his  terrible  bowie-knife  from  its  sheath. 

I  come  now  to  the  ride  out  of  the  city  by  the  chief 
assassin  and  his  dupe.  Harold  met  Booth  immediately 
after  the  crime  in  the  next  street,  and  they  rode  at  a 
gallop  past  the  Patent  Office  and  over  Capitol  Hill. 

As  they  crossed  the  Eastern  Branch  at  Uniontown, 
Booth  gave  his  proper  name  to  the  officer  at  tlie  bridge. 
This,  which  would  seem  to  have  been  foolish,  was,  in 
reality,  very  shrewd.  The  officers  believed  that  one  of 
Booth's  accomplices  had  given  this  name  in  order  to 
put  them  out  of  the  real  Booth's  track.  So  they  made 
efforts  elsewhere,  and  Booth  got  a  start.  At  midnight, 
precisely,  the  two  horsemen  stopped  at  Surrattsville, 
Booth  remaining  on  his  nag  while  Harold  descended  and 
knocked  lustily  at  the  door.  Lloyd,  the  landlord,  came 
down  at  once,  when  Harold  pushed  past  him  into  the  bar, 
and  obtained  a  bottle  of  whiskey,  some  of  which  he  gave 
to  Booth  immediately.  While  Booth  was  drinking, 
Harold  went  up  stairs  and  brought  down  one  of  the  car- 
bines.   Lloyd  started  to  get  the  other,  but  Harold  said :— - 

"  We  don't  want  it ;  Booth  has  broken  his  leg  and  can't 
carry  it." 

So  the  second  carbine  remained  in  the  hall,  where  the 
officers  afterwards  found  it. 

As  the  two  horsemen  started  to  go  off,  Booth  cried  out 
to  Lloyd — 


402  THE  GREAT  CONSPIRACY. 

plot.  They  reached  the  house  at  midnight.  It  is  a  fine 
dwelling,  one  of  the  best  in  Maryland ;  and  after  halloo- 
ing for  some  time,  Coxe  came  down  to  the  door  himself. 
As  soon  as  he  opened  it,  and  beheld  who  the  strangers 
were,  be  instantly  blew  out  the  candle  he  held  in  his 
hand,  and,  without  a  word,  pulled  them  into  the  room,  the 
negro  remaining  in  the  yard.  The  Confederates  rem.ained 
in  Coxa's  house  till  4  A.  M.,  during  which  time  the  negro 
saw  them  eat  and  drink  heartily;  but  when  they  reap- 
peared they  spoke  in  a  loud  tone,  so  that  Swan  could 
hear  them,  against  the  hospitality  of  Coxe.  All  this  was 
meant  to  influence  the  darkey;  but  their  motives  were 
as  apparent  as  their  words.  He  conducted  them  three 
miles  further  on,  when  they  told  hini  that  now  they  knew 
the  way,  and  giving,  him  five  dollars  more,  making  twelve 
in  all,  told  him  to  go  back. 

But  when  the  negro,  in  the  dusk  of  the  morning,  looked 
after  them  as  he  receded,  he  saw  that  both  horses'  heads 
were  turned  once  more  towards  Coxe's,  and  it  was  this 
man,  doubtless,  who  harbored  the  fugitives  from  Sunday 
to  Thursday,  aided,  possibly,  by  such  neighbors  as  the 
Wilsons  and  Adamses. 

At  the  point  where  Booth  crossed  tlie  Potomac  the 
shores  are  very  shallow,  and  one  must  wade  out  some 
distance  to  where  a  boat  will  float.  A  white  man  came 
up  here  with  a  canoe  on  Friday,  and  tied  it  by  a  stone 
anchor.  Between  seven  and  eight  o'clock  it  disappeared, 
and  in  the  afternoon  some  men  at  work  on  Methxy  Creek, 
in  Virginia,  saw  Booth  and  Harold  land,  tie  the  boat's 
rope  to  a  stone  and  fling  it  ashore,  and  strike  at  once 
across  a  ploughed  field  for  King  George  Court  House. 
Many  folks  entertained  them,  without  doubt,  but  we 
positively  hear  of  them  next  at  Port  Eoyal  Ferry,  and 
then  at  Garrett's  farm. 

Elsewhere  we  give  an  account  of  their  final  capture 


AilSCOLS 


ASSASSINATION  OP  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN.  403 


ASSASSINATION  OP  PSESIDENT  imCOLN. 

The  assassin,  only  tliirt^^-tliree  3^ears  of  age,  was  the 
youngest  son  of  the  elder  Booth,  and  next  in-order  of 
birth  to  his  distinguished  brother  Edwin.  He  was  born 
on  his  father's  farm  near  Baltimore,  and  is  thus  a  Mary- 
lander.  Like  his  two  brothers,  Edwin  and  Junius  Brutus, 
he  inherited  and  early  manifested  a  predilection  for  the 
stage,  and  is  well  known  to  theatre-goers  and  the  public 
general  1}^  as  a  very  fine-looking  young  man,  but  as  an 
aetor  of  more  promise  than  performance. 

He  is  best  remembered,  perhaps,  in  "Richard,"  which 
he  played  closely  after  his  father's  conception  of  that 
character,  and  by  his  admirers  was  considered  superior 
to  the  elder  Booth.  He  was  quite  popular  in  the  Western 
and  Southern  cities,  and  his  last  extended  engagement 
was,  we  believe,  in  Chicago. 

We  have  heard  excellent  actors  say — and  actors  are 
not  over  apt  to  praise  each  other — that  he  had  inherited 
some  .of  the  most  brilliant  qualities  of  his  father's  genius. 
But,  of  late,  an  apparently  incurable  bronchial  affection 
has  made  almost  every  engagement  a  failure.  The  papers 
and  critics  have  apologized  for  his  "hoarseness,"  but  it 
has  long  been  known  by  his  friends  that  he  would  be 
compelled  to  abandon  the  stage. 

During  the  last  two  months  he  had  seemed  to  be  com- 
pletely absorbed  in  some  pn^ject,  which  none  of  his 
friends  could  fathom.  In  the  midst  of  associates  he  would 
frequently  remain  silent;  or,  if  conversing,  would  talk  in 
a  pointless  way,  as  if  thinking  of  some  great  trouble. 

On  the  4th  of  March  his   conduct  was  particularly 

noticed  as  being  unusually  strange. 

Durinoc  the  morniuii:,  his  nervous  actions  attracted  con- 
es O'  .  p 

siderable  attention  among  his  acquaintances,  irom  among 
whom  he  suddenly  disappeared,  and  was  not  seen  again 
until  a  friend  found  him  standing  on  an  embankment  at 


404  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 

tlie  nortli  wing  of  the  capitol,  near  which  spot  the  Presi- 
dent would  necessarily  pass. 

Booth  was  dressed  in  a  slouch  suit,  with  his  panta 
tucked  into  the  tops  of  his  boots,  and  an  old  felt  hat 
drawn  over  his  face.  His  friend  hailed  him  two  or  three 
times,  receiving  no  reply,  and  finally  went  up  where 
Booth  was  standing,  when  the  latter  for  the  first  time  mani- 
fested his  recognition  of  the  gentleman,  his  manner 
conveying  an  impression  that  he  did  not  wish  to  ba 
recognized. 

As  the  President  passed,  he  turned  away  with  his 
friend  as  if  disappointed  by  the  absence  of  some  one,  and 
preserved  throughout  the  day  a  moody  silence. 

On  Friday  last  he  was  about  the  National  Hotel  as 
usual,  and  strolled  up  and  down  the  Avenue  several 
times.  During  one  of  the  strolls  he  stopped  at  the  Kirk- 
wood  House,  and  sent  in  to  Vice-President  Johnson  a 
card,  upon  which  was  written:  "I  do  not  wish  to  dis- 
turb you.     Are  you  in  ?     J.  Wilkes  Booth." 

A  gentleman  of  Booth's  acquaintance  at  this  time  met 
him  in  front  of  the  Kirkwood  House,  and  in  the  conver- 
sation which  followed  made  some  allusion  to  Booth's 
business,  and  in  a  jesting  way  asked,  "  What  made  him  so 
gloomy  ?  had  he  lost  another  thousand  in  oil  ?" 

Booth  replied  that  he  had  lost  considerably  by  the 
freshet;  that  he  had  been  hard  at  work  that  day,  and  was 
about  to  leave  Washington  never  to  return. 

Just  then  a  boy  came  out  and  said  to  Booth,  "  Yes,  he 
is  in  his  room." 

Upon  Avhich  the  gentleman  walked  on,  supposing  Booth 
would  enter  the  hotel. 

About  seven  o'clock  on  Friday  evening,  he  came  down 
from  his  room  at  the  National,  and  was  spoken  to  by 
several  concerning  his  paleness,  which  he  said  proceeded 
from  indisposition.  Just  before  leaving  he  asked  the 
clerk  if  he  was  not  going  to  Ford's  theatre,  and  added, 
"  There  will  he  some  very  Jine  acting  there  to-nightP 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN.  405 

Mr.  Sessford,  ticket  agent  at  the  theatre,  noticed  Booth 
as  he  passed  in,  and  shortly  after  the  latter  entered  the 
restaurant  next  to  the  theatre  and  in  a  hurried  manner 
called  for  "  Brandy !  hranchj  !  brandy  /"'  rapping  at  the 
same  time  on  the  bar. 

Captain  Theodore  McGowan,  A.  A.  G.  to  Gen.  Augur, 
states  that  he  was  at  the  theatre  on  the  night  in  question. 
Arriving  there,  said  he,  just  after  the  entrance  of  Presi- 
dent Lincoln  and  the  party  accompanying  him,  my  friend, 
Lieutenant  Crawford,  and  I,  after  viewing  the  presidential 
party  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  dress  circle,  went  to 
the  right  side,  and  took  seats  in  the  passage  above  the 
seats  of  the  dress  circle,  and  about  five  feet  from  the  door 
of  the  box  occupied  by  President  Lincoln.  During  the 
performance  the  attendant  of  the  President  came  out  and 
took  the  chair  nearest  the  door,  I  sat,  and  had  been  sit- 
ting about  four  feet  to  his  left  and  rear  for  some  time. 

i  remember  that  a  man,  whose  face  T.  do  not  distinctly 
recollect,  passed  me  and  inquired  of  one  sitting  near  who 
the  President's  messenger  was,  and  learning,  exhibited  to 
him  an  envelope,  apparently  official,  having  a  printed 
heading  and  superscribed  in  a  bold  hand ;  I  could  not 
read  the  address,  and  did  not  try.  I  think  now  it  was 
meant  for  Lieutenant-General  Grant.  That  man  went 
away. 

Some  time  after  I  was  disturbed  in  my  seat  by  the 
approach  of  a  man  who  desired  to  pass  up  on  the  aisle  in 
which  I  was  sitting.  Giving  him  room  by  bending  my 
chair  forward  he  passed  me,  and  stepped  one  step  down 
upon  the  level  below  me.  Standing  there,  he  was  almost 
in  my  line  of  sight,  and  I  saw  him  while  watching  the 
play.  He  stood,  as  I  remember,  one  step  above  the  mes- 
senger, and  remained  perhaps  one  minute  looking  at  the 
stage  and  orchestra  below. 

Then  he  drew  a  number  of  visiting  cards  from  his 
pocket,  from  which,  with  some  attention,  he  drew  or 
selected  one.     These  things  I  saw  distinctly.     I  saN\'  him 


406  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 

stoop,  and,  I  think,  descend  to  the  level  with  the  mes- 
senger, and  by  his  riglit  side.  He  showed  the  card  to  the 
messenger,  and  as  my  attention  was  then  more  closely 
fixed  upon  the  play,  I  do  not  know  whether  the  card,  was 
carried  in  by  the  messenger,  or  his  consent  given  to  the 
entrance  of  the  man  who  presented  it. 

I  saw,  a  few  moments  after,  the  same  man  entering  the 
door  of  the  lobby,  leading  to  the  box,  and  the  door  clos- 
ing behind  him.  This  was  seen,  because  I  could  not  fail 
from  my  position  to  observe  it ;  the  door  side  of  the  pro- 
scenium box  and  the  stas^e  were  all  within  the  direct  and 
oblique  lines  of  my  sight.  How  long  I  watched  the  play 
after  entering  I  do  not  know. 

It  was,  perhaps,  two  or  three  minutes,  possibly  four. 
The  house  was  perfectly  still,  the  large  audience  listening 
to  the  dialogue  between  "  Florence  Trenchard"  and  "  May 
Meredith,"  when  the  sharp  report  of  a  pistol  rang  through 
the  house.  It  w\as  apparently  fired  behind  the  scenes, 
on  the  right  of  the  stage.  Looking  towards  it  and  behind 
the  presidential  box,  while  it  started  all,  it  was  evidently 
accepted  by  every  one  in  the  theatre  as  an  introduction 
to  some  new  passage,  several  of  which  had  been  inter- 
polated in  the  early  part  of  the  play.  A  moment  after, 
a  man  leaped  from  the  front  of  the  box  directly  down, 
nine  feet,  and  on  the  stage,  and  ran  rapidly  across  it,  bare- 
headed, holdinor  an  unsheathed  dacrcrer  in  his  risrht  hand, 
the  blade  of  which  flashed  brightly  in  the  gas-light  as  he 
came  within  ten  feet  of  the  opposite  rear  exit.  I  did  not 
see  his  face  as  he  leaped  or  ran,  but  I  am  convinced  that 
he  was  the  man  I  .saw  enter.  As  he  leaped  he  cried  dis- 
tinctly the  motto  of  Virginia,  "Sic  semper  iyrannis P^ 

The  hearing  of  this  and  the  sight  of  the  dagger 
explained  fully  to  me  the  nature  of  the  deed  he  had 
committed.  In  an  instant  he  had  disappeared  behind 
the  side-scene.  Consternation  seemed  for  a  moment  to 
rivet  every  one  to  his  seat,  the  next  moment  confusion 
reigned  supreme,     I  saw  the  features  of  the  man  dis- 


ASSASSINATION  OP  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN.  40T 

tinctl}'  before  he  entered  tV.e  box,  having  surveyed  him 
contemptuously  at  that  time,  supposing  him  to  be  an 
ill-bred  fellow  who  was  pressing  a  selfish  matter  upon 
the  President  in  his  hours  of  leisure. 

The  screams  cf  Mrs.  Lincoln  first  disclosed  the  fact  to 
the  audience  that  the  President  had  been  shot;  then  all 
present  rose  to  their  feet,  rushing  towards  the  stage,  many 
exclaiming,  "Hang  him!  hang  him!" 

The  excitement  was  one  of  the  wildest  possible  descrip- 
tion, and  of  course  there  was  an  abrupt  termination  of  the 
theatrical  performance. 

There  was  a  rush  tow'ards  the  presidential  box,  wheu 
cries  were  heard,  "Stand  back!"  ''Give  him  air!"  "Has 
any  one  stimulants?"  On  a  hasty  examination  it  was 
found  that  the  President  had  been  shot  through  the  head 
above  and  back  of  the  temporal  bone,  and  that  some  of 
the  brain  was  oozing  out. 

He  was  removed  to  a  private  house  opposite  to  the 
theatre,  and  the  Surgeon  General  of  the  Army  and  other 
surgeons  were  sent  for  to  attend  to  his  condition. 

On  an  examination  of  the  private  box,  blood  was  dis- 
covered on  the  back  of  the  cushioned  rocking-chair  on 
which  the  President  had  been  sitting,  also  on  the  parti- 
tion and  on  the  floor.  A  common  single-barrelled  pocket- 
pistol  was  found  on  the  carpet. 

A  military  guard  was  placed  in  front  of  the  private 
residence  to  wdiich  the  President  had  been  conve3'ed. 

An  immense  crowd  gathered  in  front  of  it,  all  deeply 
anxious  to  learn  the  condition  of  the  President.  It  had 
been  previously  announced  that  the  wound  was  mortal, 
but  all  hoped  otherwise.  The  shock  to  the  community 
was  terrible. 

This  was  on  the  night  of  Friday,  April  1-i,  1665.  The 
next  morning  at  twenty  minutes  past  seven  o'clock  the 
President  breathed  his  last,  closing  his  eyes  as  if  falling 
asleep,  and  his  countenance  assumed  an  expression  of 
perfect  serenity.     There  were  no  indications  of  pain,  and 


409  THE  EVACUATION  OF  RICHMOND. 

it  was   not   known   he  was  dead    until  the   gradually 
decreasing  respiration  ceased  altogether. 


THE  EVACUATION  OF  RICHMOND. 

The  scene  in  the  city  during  the  conflagration  is  said 
to  have  been  perfectly  appalling.  The  sound  of  bursting 
shells  in  the  Government  arsenals,  the  roar  of  the  flames, 
the  volcano-like  eruptions  caused  by  the  upheaval  of 
immense  masses  of  debris  through  the  explosion  of  pow- 
der in  the  laboratory,  arsenals,  and  adjoining  storehouses, 
the  dense  masses  of  smoke,  the  shrieks  and  yells  of  the 
populace,  combined  to  make  such  an  impression  as  can 
never  be  effaced  from  the  memory  of  any  one  who  wit- 
nessed the  fearful  scene.  Over  the  Bank  of  Virginia  a 
handsome  Confederate  flag  floated,  sometimes  concealed 
by  the  clouds  of  smoke,  at  other  times  standing  out 
against  a  clear  sky  over  the  leaping  flames  that  vainly 
sought  to  gather  it  within  their  embrace ;  and  only  when 
the  massive  walls  of  the  structure  fell  in  did  the  defiant 
emblem  sink  into  the  crater  beneath.  There  were  but 
few  flags  flying  when  the  Union  troops  entered,  but 
shortly  afterwards  a  great  deal  of  star-spangled  banner 
patched  the  sky,  and  it  would  seem,  if  the  view  in  the 
perspective  be  any  evidence,  that,  as  judged  by  the 
amount  of  Federal  bunting,  Kichmond  must  be  a  very 
"loyal"  city.  But  three  other  "rebel"  ensigns,  beside 
that  I  have  alluded  to,  I  am  informed,  were  visible  at  the 
time  of  the  occupation  of  the  city  by  the  Federal  soldiery. 

None  of  the  buildings  on  Capitol  Square  were  burned, 
although  the  structure  used  as  the  office  of  the  Confederate 
War  Department,  directly  opposite  the  capitol,  was 
destroyed.  St.  Paul's  Church,  which  stands  on  Ninth 
Street,  next  to  the  site  of  the  War  Department  building, 
is  untouched.  In  this  church  President  Davis  was  sitting 
at  the  time  General  Lee's  telegram  announcing  the  turn- 


THE  EVACUATION  OF  RICHMOND.  409 

ing  of  the  Confederate  right  on  the  White  Oak  Road  was 
received.  The  clergyman  had  nearly  finished  his  sermon 
when  an  orderly  entered  the  church,  passed  straight  to 
the  President's  pew,  and  handed  to  him  the  fatal  dispatch. 
Mr.  Davis  immediately  proceeded  to  the  War  Department, 
thence  to  the  capitol,  and  thence  to  the  Richmond  and 
Danville  Railroad  depot,  where  he  made  the  necessary 
preparations  for  the  conveyance  of  his  family  to  a  place 
of  safety.  He  remained  in  the  city  until  near  nightfall, 
when  he  lefl  in  the  5.30  train.  Much  of  his  household 
and  personal  property  was  sent  away  several  weeks  since, 
and  when  he  took  his  final  departure  from  Richmond  he 
had  very  little  baggage  with  him. 

The  success  of  the  Federals  on  their  left  wing  was 
made  known  to  the  entire  population  of  Richmond  within 
an  hour  from  the  time  that  Mr.  Davis  received  the  news, 
and  from  this  moment  until  the  occupation  of  the  city  by 
the  United  States  soldiery,  incessant  and  indescribable 
confusion  prevailed.  During  the  forenoon  of  Sunday  the 
town  had  been  unusually  quiet,  the  movement  of  scattered 
detachments  of  troops  alone  marring  the  stillness  of  the 
day.  A  little  after  noon  people  began  to  congregate  in 
the  streets,  and  knots  grew  rapidly  in  all  the  corners, 
crossings,  and  sidewalks.  Soon  carts,  trucks,  drays,  hay- 
ricks, ambulances,  army  wagons,  vehicles,  in  short,  of  all 
descriptions,  loaded  with  household  goods  and  Govern- 
ment stores,  began  to  pour  out  of  the  alleys  and  by-ways 
into  the  main  thoroughfares,  and  even  on  towards  the 
South  Side,  the  Government  wagons  proceeding  directly 
to  the  Danville  depot.  The  alarm  spread,  and  thousands 
of  excited  individuals  with  arms  full  of  property  of  all 
portable  sorts,  rushed  headlong  toward  the  vital  avenue 
of  escape.  These  were  the  persons  who  had  determined 
to  cast  their  fortunes  with  the  Confederate  Government, 
and  hoped  to  save  something,  if  only  a  little,  from  the 
general  wreck.  Others  took  the  matter  more  coolly; 
unable  or  unwilling  to  move,  or  having  nothing  to  save, 


410  THE  EVACUATION  OF  RICHMOND. 

they  preferred  to  trust  to  the  mercies  of  the  Northern 
soldiers. 

All  that  hot  Sunday  afternoon  the  streets  were  filled 
with  gangs  of  negroes  carrying  bundles  and  boxes,  articles 
of  every  imaginable  character  that  might  be  transported 
on  the  shoulders  or  heads  of  men,  rushing  hither  and 
thither,  and  adding  to  the  general  tremendous  confusion 
by  an  incessant  chorus  of  witless  yells  and  outcries.  The 
better  class  of  the  Richmond  white  population  acted  with 
what  seemed,  under  the  circumstances,  extraordinary 
calmness,  for,  although  they  had  expected  the  evacuation, 
they  had,  one  and  all,  fondly  hoped,  even  against  hope, 
that  they  might  be  spared  the  last  crushing  humiliation 
of  giving  up  the  city  their  friends  and  brethren  in  the 
trenches  had  so  long  and  gallantly  protected.  Nobody 
went  to  bed  on  Sunday  night.  The  streets  were  filled 
with  masses  of  armed  men,  with  long  lines  of  Government 
wagons,  with  hurrying  citizens  and  laboring  negroes, 
while  the  tumult  was  incessant.  Long  trains  were  con- 
stantly departing  over  the  Danville  Road,  and  the  shrill 
shriek  of  the  locomotive  whistle  was  almost  continuous 
from  night  until  morning.  At  the  commissary  depot, 
situated  at  the  head  of  the  Government  dock,  heavy 
detachments  of  men  were  hard  at  work  from  two  o'clock 
on  Sunday  afternoon  until  six  o'clock  on  Monday  morning, 
filling  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  Government  wagons 
with  the  stores  provided  for  the  great  armies  of  Lee  ;  and 
a  throng  of  men  and  women  carrying  baskets,  pots,  pans, 
and  untensils  of  all  sorts,  surrounded  the  buildings, 
waiting  in  frantic  eagerness  for  the  signal  to  help  them- 
selves. 

The  banks  were  open  all  night  and  crowded  with 
depositors,  anxiously  waiting  their  turn  to  withdraw  their 
specie ;  and  closely  guarded  vans  were  loaded  both  here 
and  at  the  Treasury  building,  with  the  Government 
bullion,  to  be  transported  over  the  Danville  Road. 
Millions  of  dollars  in  Confederate  and  State  notes  were 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  SECRETARY  SEWARD.     411 

cast  into  tlie  streets,  cut  to  piecea  by  order  of  tbe  Govern- 
ment oiBcials  and  bank  directors ;  while  bales  of  unsigned 
notes  were  scattered  broadcast  aU  about  the  Treasury 
building.  There  was  nothing  like  the  indiscriminate 
plundering  which  might  have  been  expected  in  a  city  left 
to  the  care  of  its  most  lawless  population.  It  is  true  that 
many  persons  amassed  sudden  wealth  through  their 
efforts  in  "  saving"  the  goods  devoted  to  destruction  by 
the  flames;  but  this  property  will,  in  many  instances, 
ultimately  be  restored  to  its  owners.  The  Confederate 
authorities  adopted  one  very  wise  precaution  against 
robbery  and  pillage.  They  effectually  prevented  general 
drunkenness  and  riot  by  destroying  all  the  commissary 
whiskey  in  the  city.  At  the  depot  in  the  Government 
dock  two  thousand  barrels  were  turned  into  the  river 
early  on  the  morning  of  Monday ;  and  at  other  places 
great  quantities  of  liquor  were  thrown  upon  the  ground. 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OP  SECRETAEY  SEWAED. 

At  nine  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  fourteenth  of 
April,  1865,  says  Dr.  Verdi,  his  family  physician,  I  had 
left  Secretary  Seward  in  a  comfortable  condition,  and  his 
family  hopeful  of  his  speedy  recovery  from  an  accident 
Avhich  he,  several  days  previously,  had  met  with,  his 
horses  having  run  away  and  dashed  him  from  the  car- 
riage, fracturing  his  right  humerus  at  the  surgical  neck, 
his  lower  maxillary  below  the  angle,  and  generally 
bruising  him  about  the  face  and  neck.  At  a  few  minutes 
after  ten  P.  M.,  I  was  hastily  summoned  by  the  colored 
boy  to  attend  Mr.  Seward,  his  sons,  and  his  attendants, 
who  were,  as  the  messenger  expressed  it,  "  murdered  by 
an  assassin."  Two  minutes  brought  me  to  the  spot.  I 
was  the  first  medical  man  there.  As  I  glanced  around 
the  room  I  found  terror  depicted  on  every  countenance, 


412     ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  SECRETARY  SEWARD. 

and  blood  everywhere.  Among  the  bleeding  men  and 
terrified  ladies  I  sought  for  Mr.  Seward. 

He  was  lying  in  his  bed,  covered  with  blood,  a  fearful 
gasping  gash  marking  his  chin  and  extending  below  the 
maxillary  bone.  His,  probably,  was  the  only  countenance 
that  did  not  express  fear.  Hastily  I  examined  his  wounds, 
and  I  had  the  joy  to  bring  the  first  consolation  to  that 
anxious  family,  in  announcing  to  them  that  his  wounds 
were  not  mortal.  The  carotid  arter}'  and  jugular  vein  had 
not  been  divided  or  injured.  The  gash  was  semicircular, 
commencing  just  below  the  high  bone  of  the  cheek,  and 
extending  downward  toward  the  mouth,  and  then  back- 
ward over  the  submaxillary  gland,  laying  open  the 
inflamed  and  swollen  part  of  the  face  and  neck,  that 
had  been  injured  by  his  previous  accident.  On  exa- 
mining further,  I  found  another  stab  under  the  left 
ear,  wounding  the  parotid  gland ;  but  this  cut,  however, 
was  not  very  deep.  Mr.  Seward  had  lost  much  blood, 
and  I  immediately  applied  ice,  to  arrest  the  bleeding 
temporarily;  after  which  I  was  informed  that  Frederick 
Seward  was  in  an  adjacent  room,  also  injured.  I  hastily 
went  to  him  and  found  him  lying  on  a  lounge,  with  blood 
streaming  over  his  face.  He  had  been  wounded  in  seve- 
ral places,  viz.:  on  the  left  parietal  bone,  just  about  the 
"  parietal  eminence"  on  the  left  side  of  the  frontal  bone, 
just  about  the  line  of  intersection  with  the  parietal ;  with 
two  other  light  wounds  in  that  neighborhood. 

The  injury  on  the  parietal  eminence  had  evidently 
crushed  the  bone,  as  osseous  spiculoe  were  taken  out ;  but 
it  appeared,  however,  that  the  internal  table,  even  if 
fractured,  was  not  depressed.  He  was  not  insensible, 
but  could  not  articulate.  In  about  an  hour,  however, 
after  his  wounds  were  dressed  he  fell  into  a  slumber 
from  which  for  sixty  hours  he  could  not  be  aroused.  I 
had  scarcely  finished  applying  ice  to  arrest  the  hemor- 
rhage when  I  was  told  to  look  at  Mr.  Augustus  Seward. 
I   became   truly  amazed.      "  What  I"  said   I,  "  is  there 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  SECRETARY  SEWARD.     413 

another  one  wounded?"  His  injuries,  however,  were 
comparatively  light.  One  was  from  a  blow  with  the 
butt-end  of  a  pistol,  on  the  upper  and  middle  part  of  the 
forehead ;  the  other  a  cut  over  the  metacarpal  bone  of 
the  thumb  of  his  right  hand.  Here  I  was  again  requested 
to  luck  at  another  man.  My  surprise  ceased  then ;  I 
became  terrified.  This  was  the  man  nurse,  a  soldier  in 
attendance  on  Mr.  Seward.  I  found  his  wounds  were 
four  in  number,  all  from  the  blade  of  a  knife— three  over 
the  right  scapular  region,  and  one  below  it.  It  was  evi- 
dent, after  a  careful  examination,  that  the  scapula  pre- 
vented the  penetration  of  the  frightful  weapon  into  the 
chest.  After  giving  to  this  patient  the  requisite  attend- 
ance, I  was  called  to  see  another  man  who  was  wounded. 
He  had  received  but  one  stab  in  the  back  over  the  seventh 
rib,  very  near  the  spinal  column.  The  knife  must  have 
glanced  off,  as  this  cut  was  long  but  quite  superficial ; 
had  it  been  direct,  his  right  lung  would  have  received  an 
irreparable  injury. 

Such  IS  the  scene  that  presented  itself.  Now  I  will 
relate  to  you  the  circumstances  I  gathered  in  this  horrible 
attempt  at  assassination. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  bell  at  Mr.  Seward's  house  was 
rung,  and  answered  by  the  colored  boy.  As  the  door 
opened,  a  very  tall  man  appeared,  with  a  small  package 
in  his  hand,  saying  that  Dr.  Verdi  had  sent  him  with  a 
prescription  for  Secretary  Seward,  which  he  must  deliver 
personally.  The  boy  remonstrated  with  the  man,  saying 
that  Mr.  Seward  was  asleep,  and  that  he,  the  servant, 
would  take  charge  of  the  prescription.  The  man  said, 
"No,  I  have  particular  directions,  and  I  must  deliver 
them  myself"  So  saying,  he  walked  up  stairs;  but 
treading  very  heavily,  he  was  reminded  by  the  bo}^  who 
was  following  him,  to  walk  more  lightly,  in  order  not  to 
disturb  Mr.  Seward. 

Mr.  Frederick  Seward  was  at  this  time  lying,  dressed, 
on  a  sofa  in  his  room,  one  adjacent  to  his  father's,  and 


414     ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  SECRETARY  SEWARD, 

hearing  heavy  footsteps,  came  into  the  hall  and  met  the 
stranger,  who  attempted  to  enter  his  father's  room. 
Frederick  expostulated  with  him,  declaring  that  his  father 
was  asleep  and  could  not  be  seen.  Evidently  the  young 
man  saw  mischief  in  the  face  of  the  assassin.  Miss 
Fanny  Seward,  who  was  in  her  father's  room,  hearing  the 
conversation  outside,  opened  the  door  to  ascertam  what 
was  the  matter ;  but  Frederick  cried  out  to  her  to  '•  shut 
the  door."  It  seems  that  for  two  or  three  minutes  the 
assassin  hesitated,  or  endeavored  to  enter  without  making 
a  deadly  assault  upon  Frederick;  but  meeting  with 
determined  opposition,  he  dealt  several  blows  on  young 
Seward's  head,  apparently  with  a  pistol,  with  the  inten- 
tion probably  of  disabling  without  killing  him. 

Tlie  door  was  then  opened,  and  the  murderer  entered, 
pushing  Frederick,  already  staggering,  before  him;  then 
disengaging  himself  from  his  adversary,  he  asked  ISliss 
Fanny,  "Is  the  Secretary  asleep?" — at  the  same  moment 
making  a  spring  for  the  bed,  where  the  unfortunate  man 
Bat,  aroused  with  the  frightful  conviction  of  what  was  to 
be  expected.  The  next  moment  the  villain  dealt  him  a 
blow  with  the  deadly  knife,  which  was  so  violent  that 
(fortunately,  we  may  say)  it  precipitated  him  from  his 
bed.  In  falling,  however,  he  must  have  received  tlie 
second  blow  on  the  other  side  of  the  neck.  It  must  have 
been  at  this  time  that  the  man  nurse  (having  been  absent 
at  the  hospital)  returned  and  attacked  the  murderer,  to 
prevent  him  from  doing  further  injury  to  Mr.  Seward. 
In  the  endeavor  to  restrain  tlie  ferocity  of  the  assassin, 
the  nurse  was  struck  several  times,  as  described  above. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  the  nurse  and  Frederick, 
who  rallied  sufficiently  to  still  use  his  feeble  efforts  in 
behalf  of  his  poor  father,  were  struggling  with  this  man, 
that  Major  Augustus  Seward,  awakened  from  sleep  by 
the  noise  and  screams  of  Miss  Fanny,  came  into  the  room, 
thinking  that  probably  liis  father  Avas  delirious,  and  had 
frightened  the  attendants,  or  else  that  the  nurse  left  to 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OP  SECRETARY  SEWARD.     415 

"Watch  during  tlie  night  was  in  some  way  misbeliaving 
himself.  The  major,  seeing  the  struggle,  and  not  at  all 
comprehending  the  facts,  took  hold  of  the  man,  believing 
him  still  to  be  the  nurse,  and  dragged  him  to  the  door. 
Of  course  the  assassin  took  advantaare  of  this,  and  dealing 
one  blow  on  the  head  of  the  major,  making,  however,  but 
a  slight  wound,  and  cutting  his  hand,  as  aforesaid,  ran 
down  stairs,  followed  bj  the  major,  who  did  not  know 
the  condition  of  affairs  until  he  came  back  to  his  father's 
room.  The  assassin  then  mounted  liis  horse,  which  he 
had  left  before  the  door,  and  rode  rapidly  away. 

There  are  three  peculiar  features  to  this  case:  First, 
had  Frederick  Seward  said  to  his  sister  "  Lock  the  door," 
instead  of  "  Shut  the  door,"  the  assassin  might  neyer  haye 
been  able  to  enter  the  Secretary's  room.  Second,  had 
Augustus  Seward  understood  that  the  man  was  an  assassin 
attempting  to  murder  his  father,  he  would  never  have 
allowed  him  to  escape,  or  perchance  might  have  precipi- 
tated him  down  stairs,  and  then  attempted  to  disable  and 
arrest  him.  The  third  is  this :  The  boy  who  followed 
the  wretch  up  stairs,  soon  hearing  that  he  was  making 
an  attack  on  Mr.  Frederick,  ran  out,  calling  "Watch!" 
and  "  Murder !"  and  went  as  far  as  the  corner  of  the  street, 
only  fifty  yards  distant,  where  there  was  a  sentry  on  duty ; 
the  terrified  lad  told  the  sentry  to  hasten  to  the  house, 
that  there  was  an  assassin  attempting  the  lives  of  the 
family ;  but  the  sentry  did  not  heed  the  boy,  or  thought 
he  could  not  leave  his  post ;  else  he  would  have  been  in 
time  to  present  his  bayonet  to  the  flying  assassin,  and 
could  have  secured  or  killed  him.        *         -5^         *         * 

Thus  ended  that  horrible  traged}',  which  took  one- 
hundredth  part  less  of  time  in  perpetrating  than  my  weak 
attempt  at  its  relation. 

The  following  is  a  detailed  account  of  the  circumstances 
under  which  the  assassin  was  arrested. 

For  several  days  it  had  been  noticed  that  a  number 
of  suspicious  persons  were  in  the  habit  of  going  into  a 


416     ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  SECRETARY  REWARD. 

certain  house  in  the  very  heart  of  the  city  of  Washington, 
and  changing  their  clothes.  One  evening  information  was 
received  about  ten  o'clock,  by  the  military  authorities, 
that  the  house  was  occupied  by  Mrs,  Surratt,  the  mother 
of  John  H.  Surratt,  implicated  as  an  accomplice  in  the 
recent  terrible  tragedies,  and  that  the  occupants  of  the 
house  could  furnish  valuable  information  in  regard  to 
the  parties  charged  with  complicity  in  the  murder  of  the 
President.  Colonel  Wells,  Provost  Marshal,  ordered  the 
arrest  of  these  parties.  Major  H.  W.  Smith,  of  General 
Augur's  staff,  and  Captain  Wurmerskirch,  assistant  of 
Colonel  Olcott,  special  commissioner  of  the  War  Depart- 
ment, were  charged  with  the  execution  of  this  duty. 

These  officers  reached  the  liouse  about  half-past  ten 
o'clock,  and  arrested  Mrs.  M.  E.  Surratt  and  Miss  Anna 
Surratt,  mother  and  sister  of  John  II.  Surratt,  and  Miss 
Honora  Fitzpatrick  and  a  Miss  Ilolahan.  Soon  after- 
wards Mr.  E.  C.  Morgan,  assistant  of  Colonel  Olcott, 
arrived,  and  proceeded  to  search  the  house,  examine 
papers,  etc.  Abundant  evidences  were  discovered  of  the 
deep  sympathy  of  the  occupants  with  the  rebel  cause,  and 
also  of  their  intimacy  and  very  recent  communication 
with  J.  Wilkes  Booth,  the  murderer.  The  ladies  arrested 
were  each  examined  separately,  and  subsequently  sent  in 
charge  of  officers  Rosh  and  Devoe  to  General  Augur's 
headquarters  for  further  examination.  The  information 
obtained  from  them  was  so  unsatisfactory  and  contradic- 
tory that  the  four  were  finally  sent  to  the  Old  Capitol 
prison  until  they  were  ready  to  testify  more  clearly  and 
consistently. 

Just  as  the  ladies  were  preparing  to  leave  the  house, 
there  was  a  light  knock  at  the  front  door.  It  was  opened 
by  Major  Morgan,  Major  Smith  and  Captain  Wermer- 
skirch  standing  by,  with  their  pistols  ready  to  be  used  if 
necessary.  At  the  door  was  a  young  looking  man,  about 
five  feet  eleven  inches  in  stature,  light  complexion,  with 
peculiarly  large  gray  eyes,  and  hair  that  had  evidently 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  SECRETARY  SEWARD.      4 It 

been  dyed.  He  wore  a  graj  cassimere  coat  and  vest, 
fine  black  cloth  pantaloons,  and  fine  boots.  His  boots 
and  pantaloons  were  covered  with  mud  almost  to  the 
knees,  and  his  whole  appearance  was  that  of  one  who  had 
been  lying  out  in  the  rain.  He  had  a  pickaxe  on  his 
shoulder.  When  the  door  was  opened  the  visitor  ex- 
claimed, "I  believe  I  am  mistaken,"  and  turned  to  go 
away.  He  was  asked  by  Mr.  Morgan  who  he  wanted  to 
see. 

He  answered,  "  Mrs.  Surratt." 

Mr.  Morgan  said,  "Mrs.  Surratt  lives  here;  she  is  at 
home;  walk  in." 

He  then  came  in,  and  was  ushered  into  the  parlor,  while 
the  ladies  under  arrest  were  passed  out  the  house  from  a 
back  room  where  they  had  been  assembled.  After  being 
seated  in  the  parlor,  the  man  with  the  pickaxe  was  closely 
interrogated  as  to  his  business  there  at  that  time  of  night, 
twenty  minutes  after  eleven,  his  occupation,  etc.  In  reply 
he  stated  that  he  was  a  laboring  man,  and  had  been  sent 
for  by  Mrs.  Surratt  to  dig  a  gutter,  and  had  called  to 
know  what  time  next  morning  she  wished  him  to  come 
to  work ;  that  he  had  for  some  time  past  been  employed 
on  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Eailroad  as  a  laborer,  that  he 
•was  at  work  on  the  road  on  Friday  last,  and  slept  that 
night  with  the  other  road  hands;  that  he  had  no  money, 
and  earned  his  living  with  his  pickaxe. 

He  confusedly  attempted  to  tell  where  he  had  slept  on 
Sunday  night,  and  where  he  had  been  since  Saturday 
morning;  but  often  contradicted  himself,  and  broke  down 
completely  in  this  part  of  his  narrative. 

During  the  investigation  he  produced  a  certificate  of 
oath  of  allegiance,  purporting  to  have  been  taken  by 
Lewis  Payne,  of  Fauquier  County,  Virginia,  but  when 
questioned  about  it,  evidently  did  not  know  anything 
about  the  date  of  the  certificate.  He  asserted  frequently 
that  he  was  a  poor  man,  and  could  neither  read  nor 
write,  and  earned  his  living  by  his  dail\-  labor ;  but  his 
27 


418    ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OP  SECRETARY  SEWARD. 

language  was  that  of  a  man  of  education,  and  bis  feet  and 
hands  were  small  and  well  shaped ;  the  latter  being  deli- 
cate, white,  and  soft  as  a  woman's,  and  unstained  with 
any  marks  of  toil.  He  wore  on  his  head  a  sort  of 
Scotch  skull-cap,  which,  on  examination,  was  found  to 
have  been  made  by  cutting  off  the  arm  of  a  stockinet 
shirt,  or  the  leg  of  drawers  of  the  same  material,  the  top 
of  the  cap  being  formed  bj  tying  a  string  around  one  of 
the  ends.  Upon  searching  his  pockets,  they  were  found  to 
contain  a  comb,  hair  and  tooth  brushes,  a  pot  of  pomatum, 
a  package  of  pistol  cartiidges,  a  new  pocket-compass,  and 
twenty-five  dollars  in  greenbacks.  After  the  preliminary 
examination  he  was  taken  in  charge  of  officers  Sampson 
and  Devoe,  to  General  Augur's  headquarters,  where  upon 
further  examination,  he  gave  an  account  of  himself  quite 
different  from  the  one  previously  given.  It  was  evident 
that  he  was  in  disguise,  and  had  been  taken  by  surprise 
in  finding  the  officers  at  the  house  where  he  ex[)ected  to 
find  a  welcome  and  refuge.  The  facts  disclosed  in  the 
examination  induced  the  belief  that  he  was  the  blood- 
thirsty villain  who  had  attempted  the  life  of  Secretary 
Seward  on  Friday  night.  He  was  placed  in  a  room  with 
two  other  strangers.  The  light  was  made  dim,  as  nearly 
as  possible,  in  imitation  of  the  condition  of  the  light  in 
Mr.  Seward's  room  on  that  eventful  night,  and  the  domes- 
tics of  Mr.  Seward  were  sent  for.  Upon  entering  the 
room  the  porter,  a  colored  boy  about  seventeen  years  of 
age,  threw  up  his  hands  with  an  exclamation  of  liorror, 
and,  pointing  to  the  man,  said,  "That  is  the  man!  I  don't 
want  to  see  him;  he  did  it;  I  know  him  by  that  lip!" 
The  servant  had  already  previously  described  some 
peculiarity  about  the  upper  lip  of  the  man  whom  he  had 
admitted  to  commit  the  foul  and  murderous  deed.  He 
was  subsequently  recognized  by  others  as  the  man  who 
perpetrated  the  murderous  deed  at  Secretary  Seward's, 
and  testimony  has  been  procured,  tracing  him,  step  by 
step,  from  the  time  of  his  separation  from  Booth  until  he 


SAM  DE  MORSB  THE  GUERRILLA.  419 

entered  Seward's  house.  The  chain  of  evidence  is  com- 
plete, and  fastens  upon  him  as  the  perpetrator  of  the 
horrid  crime  which  has  shocked  the  whole  commuuitv. 
The  villain  was  heavily  ironed,  and  placed  in  confinement 
on  one  of  the  gunboats.  Several  other  parties  have  been 
ascertained  to  be  accomplices  before  the  fact  in  the  awful 
ti-agedy.  The  investigations  reveal  a  plot  well  laid,  and 
long  and  carefully  matured  for  murder  and  arson,  on  a 
scale  so  grandly  diabolical  as  to  be  hardly  conceivable. 


SAM  DE  MOESE  THE  GUEREILLA. 

In  the  spring  of  1862,  North  Alabama  was  thrown 
into  a  terrible  state  of  excitement  by  the  report,  which 
rapidly  gained  credence,  that  General  Hardee  would  be 
compelled  to  abandon  the  line  of  defences  on  Duck  Eiver, 
as  he  had  already  done  the  line  on  the  Tennessee. 

The  Confederate  Army,  broken,  dispirited,  almost 
demoralized,  passed  Huntsville,  and  scarcely  halting,  took 
the  cars  for  Corinth,  at  which  point  the  Federal  Army 
was  concentrating  under  the  matchless  leadership  of 
Grant.  Buell  was  craftily  seeking  to  out-general  the 
Confederates  and  hurl  his  magnificent  army  upon  the 
same  point.  In  this  he  was  perfectly  successful.  To 
accomplish  this  end,  he  sent  the  impetuous  Mitchell 
down  on  Huntsville  with  one  of  the  best  appointed  divi- 
sions in  the  West.  His  march  was  one  continued  success, 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  11th  day  of  April,  1862,  he 
charged  the  town,  capturing  a  portion  of  the  rear  guard 
of  the  rebel  army,  besides  an  immense  amount  of  military 
and  other  stores. 

While  this  retreat  was  being  made  by  the  Confederates, 
the  Union  men  suffered  everything  but  death,  and  many 
of  them  suffered  even  that,  for  they  died  from  the  efi'ects 
of  exposure  in  hiding  out  in  the  mountains,  or  were  killed 
ia  their  numerous  encounters  with  the  guerrillas,  who 


420  6AM  liE  MORSE,  THE  OtJERRILLA. 

were  contiaually  on  the  alert  to  catch  them  and  drag  them 
to  the  army. 

Gurlej's,  De  Morse's,  Davis's,  Tom  Pike's,  and  Long's 
guerrillas  infested  the  country  at  this  time,  visiting  every 
house,  searchmg  every  hiding-place  to  find  men  subject 
to  military  duty.  Ol'ten  a  single  one  of  them  would  pass 
from  house  to  house,  in  somie  impenetrable  disguise,  in 
order  to  see  if  the  men  were  at  home,  or  ascertain  where 
they  were  secreted.  Sometimes  he  would  go  to  a  man's 
house  and  tell  his  family  a  pitiful  tale  of  persecution, 
avow  the  most  heartfelt  Union  sentiments,  and  beg  to 
be  fed;  then  affecting  to  be  alarmed  for  his  salety,  or 
to  be  overcome  by  fatigue,  he  would  beg  the  people  to 
show  him  some  hiding-place.  Perhaps  he  would  be 
secreted  in  the  same  old  house,  in  the  same  loft,  or  under 
the  same  floor,  taken  to  the  same  mountain  cave  in  which 
was  hidden  a  father,  a  husband,  or  a  brother. 

No  sooner  would  the  desired  information  be  obtained, 
than  it  would  be  dispatched  to  some  guerrilla  chief,  and 
in  an  unexpected  moment  the  unhappy  man  would  be 
surprised,  and  dragged  away  in  irons  to  the  conscript 
prison ;  or,  if  the  least  resistance  were  offered  or  a  flight, 
attempted,  he  would  be  shot  down  in  the  presence  of  an 
agonized  family.  Should  he  by  chance  have  some  repu- 
tation as  a  politician  and  a  Union  man,  more  frequently 
they  would  hang  him  to  the  nearest  tree  j  sometimes  even 
in  his  own  door-yard.  How  many  widows,  how  many 
orphans,  these  murdering  miscreants  have  made,  God  in 
heaven  can  only  know. 

Gathering  in  small  parties,  or  scattering  singly  through 
the  mountains,  the  Union  men  hid  themselves,  and  prayed 
for  the  day  when  the  Union  Army  should  deliver  them. 
Often  the  echoes  of  the  mountains  would  be  awakened 
by  the  deep-mouthed  baying  of  the  bloodhounds  running 
on  the  track  of  some  unlucky  fugitive,  who  was  almost 
sure  to  be  caught  or  killed  when  tliese  merciless  messen- 
gers were  let  loose  on  hira. 


BAM  DE  MORSE,  THE  GUERRILLA.  421 

Two  of  my  neighbors,  says  a  noted  Unionist  of  tliat 
region,  named  Hedges  and  Glenn,  were  hiding  with  nie 
one  day  in  the  mountains  on  Hurricane  Creek,  when  we 
were  suddenly  surprised  by  six  of  De  Morse's  men.  "\\  e 
were  well  armed,  and  so  were  they ;  we  retreated  into 
the  mouth  of  the  small  cave,  wdiere  we  were  in  the 
habit  of  hiding.  The  guerrillas  must  have  thought  that 
we  were  only  indifferently  armed,  for  they  advanced 
boldly,  and  called  upon  us  to  come  out  and  surrender. 

The  cave  was  situated  upon  a  high  ledge  of  rock,  with 
a  narrow  shelf  or  "bench"  traversing  the  face  of  the  ledge 
in  front  of  our  cave.  The  guerrillas  advanced  along  that 
shelf  in  file,  for  it  was  too  narrow  for  two  to  walk  abreast, 
until  they  arrived  within  a  few  yards  of  the  cave,  when 
they  ordered  us  to  come  out  or  they  would  "smoke  us 
out."  We  knew  that  this  was  no  idle  threat,  for  they 
often  carried  the  means  for  "smoking"  caves  with  them. 
There  were  three  alternatives  for  us  to  choose  from,  viz: 
to  come  out  and  surrender,  and  be  dragged  away  to  the 
conscript  prison,  to  stay  in  the  cave  and  be  suffocated 
with  smoke,  and  eventually  be  killed  or  captured,  or  to 
fight.  I  chose  the  latter,  and  the  other  two  agreed  to 
fight  if  I  would  lire  the  first  shot;  to  this  I  agreed,  and 
we  sallied  out,  and  on  turning  an  abrupt  angle  in  the 
cliff",  I  came  upon  the  foremost  one.  The  path  ran  in  such 
a  zigzag  shape  that  I  was  on  him  before  he  had  time  to 
resist.  When  I  first  got  sight  of  him  his  head  was  turned 
and  he  was  speaking  to  a  comrade  behind  him,  when  I 
reached  out  suddenly,  caught  him  by  the  collar  of  the 
coat,  and  gave  him  a  quick  jerk  towards  me,  which  had 
the  effect  to  throw  him  off'  his  balance,  and  his  gun  slip- 
ping from  his  hand,  went  clattering  down  the  face  of  the 
cliff"  into  the  deep  gorge  below.  Grasping  the  projecting 
rock  with  my  right  hand  to  steady  myself,  with  my  left  I 
swung  him  around  the  angle  of  the  rock  and  threw  him 
on  the  ground. 


422  SAM  DE  MORSE,  THE  GUERRILLA. 

"Spare  my  life!  I  will  surrender!"  he  shouted  O, 
men,  don't  kill  me!     O,  spare  me,  spare" — 

"Silence,  villain,  or  I  will  hurl  you  over  the  cliii'.'' 

As  I  pulled  this  man  round  the  point,  Hodges  and 
Glenn  thrust  their  guns  beyond  me  and  fired,  and  the 
next  instant  a  man  bounded  oft'  the  cliff"  in  plain  view, 
and  fell  crashing  through  the  branches  of  the  trees  below. 
It  was  a  terrible  sight ;  we  could  see  one  side  of  his  face, 
which  seemed  to  be  shot  away.  Crash,  crash,  he  went, 
as  he  fell  from  bough  to  bough,  and  at  last  struck  the 
rocks  below  with  a  violence  that  must  have  crushed 
every  bone  in  his  body,  for  the  sound  echoed  through 
the  cliff's  with  a  dull  thug  as  loud  as  the  report  of  a  gun. 
We  had  no  time  to  look  after  him,  however,  for  now  the 
other  four  engaged  our  attention.  Hastily  they  fired 
their  guns  at  random  around  the  projecting  rock  at  us, 
and  fled  along  the  giddy  precipice,  steadying  themselves 
by  laying  their  hand  upon  the  rocks  as  they  ran.  Draw- 
ing our  pistols  we  pursued;  as  w^e  were  mountainecr»s 
wliile  they  were  from  the  level  country  about  Nashville, 
we  had  a  decided  advantage  in  that  aerial  sort  of 
chase.  Presently,  on  coming  to  a  narrow  place  in  the 
path,  where  it  was  obstructed  by  a  huge  rock,  we  fired  a 
pistol  shot,  when  another  of  their  number  staggered, 
dropped  his  gun,  clutched  wildly  at  the  air,  and  fell 
headlong  over  the  cliff'  with  one  last  fearful  yell,  and  in 
an  instant  was  crashing  through  the  projecting  scrub 
growth  below. 

"Hold,  hold,  men,  w^e  will  surrender;  don't  kill  us," 
the  others  plead. 

"Throw  down  your  guns,"  I  yelled. 

"We  will;  we  are  your  prisoners,  and  will  do  what- 
ever you  tell  us  to." 

"All  right,  then;  toss  those  guns  over  the  cliff"  there, 
for  we  don't  want  them." 

"We  will,"  said  one,  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  word, 
they  each  tossed  a  gun  over  the  cliffy  which  went  clang- 


SAM  DE  MORSE,  THE  GUERRILLA.  423 

ing  to  the  bottom;  as  tliej  fell  two  of  them  were  dis- 
charged, and  their  contents  whizzed  past  us  high  up  into 
the  air.  When  this  was  done,  I  bade  one  of  my  comrades 
go  back  and  bring  our  other  prisoners.  He  did  so,  and 
then  we  marched  them  along  before  us  until  we  got  to  a 
place  wide  enough  for  one  of  us  to  pass  them  without 
danger,  where  we  halted,  and  putting  one  man  before 
and  two  behind  them,  we  marched  back  to  the  cave  in 
the  cliff'.  When  we  had  entered  the  cave  we  struck  a 
light,  having  many  conveniences  there,  as  it  was  an  old 
hiding  place.  Tliis  was  the  first  time  it  had  been  dis- 
covered; even  then  it  must  have  resulted  more  from 
accident  than  design. 

The  light  flashetl  up  and  revealed  four  prettj  solid- 
looking  men,  rather  past  the  meridian  of  life,  for  theif 
hair  and  beards  were  thickly  vSprinkled  with  gray.  They 
were  sun-browned  from  exposure,  and  appeared  to  have 
seen  hard  service.  They  were  strangers  in  our  part  of 
the  country,  for  they  did  not  seem  to  know  any  of  us,  nor 
did  we  remember  to  have  ever  seen  any  of  them  before. 
In  order  to  satisfy  myself  upon  this  point,  I  stood  out 
before  them  in  the  glare  of  the  light  and  said: — 

"Gentlemen,  look  at  me,  do  you  know  me?" 

They  scanned  my  features  closely,  but  shook  their 
heads;  they  were  badly  frightened,  and  two  of  them 
trembled  perceptibly.  Thinking  that  it  might  be  to  my 
advantage  to  make  an  imposing  impression,  I  said  a  little 
roughly : — • 

"So  you  don't  know  me?  Then  I  will  tell  you  who 
I  am;  I  am  Wild  Paul,  the  king  of  the  mountain."  They 
looked  in  mute  astonishment  at  me ;  I  could  see  that  they 
were  sorely  frightened;  "and  now,  sir,"  I  continued, 
addressing  one  of  them,  "  what  is  your  name?" 

"Thomas  Couch,"  he  faltered. 

"And  yours?"  addressing  another. 

"Hiram  Davis,  sir." 

"And  yours?" 


424  SAM  EE  MCKSE,  THE  GUERRILLA. 

"Abner  Wilson,"  lie  answered,  in  a  faint  tone. 

"And  3"our  name?"  addressing  the  fourth  and  last 
man. 

"  Is  Samuel  De  Morse,"  he  replied,  defiantly. 

"  Guerrillas  r  I  said,  or  rather  hissed,  for  all  the  con- 
tempt I  felt  for  them  seemed  to  embody  itself  in  that  one 
word,  which  I  believe  means  a  "  petty  warrior,"  in  the 
Spanish  language ;  the  termination  rilla  means  diminu- 
tive, and  at  the  same  time  is  expressive  of  contempt. 

"Yes,  guerrillas,"  he  answered,  somewhat  proudly. 

"Well,  now,  Mr.  Guerrilla,  do  you  know  what  your 
fate  is?" 

"Death,  I  suppose." 

"Very  right,  sir;  unless  you  accept  your  lives  on  my 
conditions." 

"Name  them,"  he  said. 

"You  must  take  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United 
States  of  America,  and  you  must  swear  never  to  reveal 
this  hiding-place  or  the  names  of  any  of  these  men,  or 
speak  of  this  affair  to  any  living  soul,  or — 

"What!"  he  gasped. 

"You  shall  surely  die,"  I  continued,  looking  every  man 
in  the  eye  as  I  slowly  scanned  each  face. 

"Give  us  a  little  time  to  consider?"  he  said. 

"Five  minutes,"  I  answered,  looking  at  my  watch,  and 
stepping  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  I  placed  my  forefin- 
gers in  my  mouth  and  gave  a  shrill  whistle,  as  though 
for  a  signal.  The  guerrillas  whisj^ered  together  for  a  few 
moments,  when  three  of  them  turned  to  me,  and  one 
said : — 

"We  accept  your  terms,  and  will  take  the  oath." 

"And  you,"  I  said,  turning  to  De  Morse,  "  what  have 
you  to  say  ?" 

"That  I  defy  you,"  and  his  lip  writhed  in  a  scornful 
smile. 

"Very  well,  sir,"  I  said;  "it  is  a  free  thing,  you  have 
your  choice." 


SAM  DE  MOrvSE,  THE  GUERRILLA.  425 

"Do  yonr  worst,"  lie  said. 

"Be  patient,  sir;  tliere  is  time  enough  to  shoot  a  thou- 
sand traitors  before  night."  I  was  astonished  at  my  own 
heartlessness,  in  thus  cavilling  with  a  man  whom  self- 
preservation  imperatively  demanded  me  to  kilL 

"Hodges,"  I  said,  addressing  a  comrade,  "keep  your 
eye  upon  that  man  while  I  attend  to  these ;"  then  pro- 
ducing" a  small  memorandum,  I  tore  out  a  blank  leaf,  and 
with  a  pencil  wrote  the  following  oath  of  allegiance: — 

"We,  the  imdersigned  citizens  of  Davidson  County, 
Tennessee,  do  hereby  swear,  that  we  will  bear  true  faith 
and  allegiance  to  the  United  States  of  America  for  the 
rest  of  our  natural  lives ;  and  that  we  will  defend  them 
from  all  enemies  and  opposers  v/homsoever,  under  any 
and  all  circumstances;  and  we  also  swear  that  we  will 
never  reveal  the  whereabouts  of  this  cave,  nor  the  names 
of  any  man  concerned  in  this  capture  to  any  living  soul; 
and  also  that  we  will  ever  befriend  these  men  who  have 
captured  us ;  and  this  we  do  solemnly  swear,  without  any 
equivocation  or  mental  reservation  whatever  in  the 
presence  of  Almighty  God." 

After  reading  it  to  them,  I  said :  "  TVhat  do  you  say, 
men,  will  vou  swear  ?"  and  immediately  they  answered : 

"  We  will." 

"Then  take  off  your  hats  and  hold  up  your  right 
hands ;"  and  I  again  read  the  oath,  and  one  of  them 
responded : — 

"  I  do,  in  the  name  of  God,"  and  his  words  were  taken 
up  and  repeated  by  the  other  two. 

"Kow,  men,"  I  said,  "you  will  sign  this  oath,  and  you 
will  be  at  liberty."  One  of  them  signed  the  oath  in  a 
tolerably  legible  hand,  and  the  others  made  their  marks 
after  their  comrade  had  written  their  names,  for  they 
were  unable  to  write.  "  You  can  go  now  or  stay  with 
us,  just  as  you  please." 

"And  now,  sir,  Mr.  De  Morse,  I  would  have  a  few 
words  with  you,"  I  said,  turning  to  the  remaining  guer- 


426  SAM  DE  MORSE,  THE  GUERRILLA. 

rilla.  "Why  do  I  find  you  following  my  track  like  a 
hound,  seeking  for  my  blood;  you  do  not  even  recognizo 
me,  now  that  we  have  met.  Tell  me,  sir,  for  I  would 
know  who  it  was  that  set  you  on  my  track !" 

"  That  I  will  never  tell  you,"  he  answered,  as  he 
returned  my  look  with  a  steady  gaze. 

"As  you  please,"  I  said;  "but  you  will  rue  the  day 
that  you  fell  upon  this  unlucky  errand.  You  have  refused 
my  mercy;  you  have  shown  me  by  refusing  to  accept 
mercy  that  you  never  grant  it  yourself;  but  tell  me  why 
it  is  that  you  choose  the  life  of  a  guerrilla  in  preference 
to  that  of  a  soldier  in  the  field." 

"  That  I  will  with  pleasure.  It  is  because  I  do  not 
care  to  follow  the  hardships  of  a  soldier's  life,  nor  to  submit 
to  the  rigid  discipline  of  the  army ;  still  I  desire  to  serve 
my  country  to  the  extent  of  my  ability.  It  is  a  free  and 
easy  devil-may-care  life,  full  ol"  fun  and  frolic,  and  not  a 
little  adventure.  We  hang  upon  the  rear  of  a  column  of 
Yankees,  pick  off  stragglers,  bushwhack  pickets,  capture 
isolated  wagon  trains,  tear  up  railroad  tracks,  interrupt 
their  communications,  fire  into  railroad  trains,  capture 
couriers,  catch  conscripts  and  deserters,  penetrate  the 
enemy's  lines  and  obtain  information,  and  various  other 
things  too  tedious  to  mention;  but  all  of  which  have  a 
tendency  to  cripple  the  enemy,  besides  giving  us  a  chance 
to  make  a  little  extra  once  in  a  while.  We  are  inde- 
pendent and  free,  and  that  is  what  we  most  desire.  We 
serve  our  country  for  the  love  of  country,  and  we  boast 
among  our  numbers  the  proudest  chivalry  of  tlie  land." 

"And  let  me  add,  you  are  a  band  of  midnight  assassins 
and  murderers;  stealing  upon  railroad  trains,  and  firing 
upon  defenceless  non-combatants,  women,  and  children, 
all  fare  equally  in  that ;  a  brave  deed  truly,  and  those 
women  and  children  your  own  people,  perhaps  those 
women  are  the  wives  of  Southern  soldiers,  and  those  their 
children.     You  think  that  is  chivalry,  do  you  ?" 


SAM  DE  MORSE,  THE  GUERRILLA.  427 

"It  is  tlie  fate  of  war,  and  is  to  be  deplored;  but  we 
must  cripple  the  enemy. ' 

"  It  is  the  fate  of  war,  is  it  ?  You  track  Union  men  to 
their  biding  places  as  you  did  me,  and  smoke  them  out 
and  murder  them  in  cold  blood,  or  drag  them  away  to 
the  conscript  pen  to  be  sent  to  the  field,  and  shot  down 
like  dumb  beasts  by  men  who  are  better  friends  to  them 
to-day,  than  the  men  who  force  them  into  this  unholy 
war,  and  lead  them  when  they  are  there.  It  is  chivalry, 
is  it,  to  drag  away  husbands  and  fathers  to  fight  in  a 
cause  for  which  they  have  no  sympathy,  and  leave  their 
wuves  and  children  to  starve,  or  to  live  from  the  bounty 
of  the  Government  that  you  are  seeking  to  overthrow; 
and  this  you  call  chivalr^^  ?" 

"  We  are  not  responsible  for  consequences ;  we  must 
do  our  duty." 

"Ver}'-  well,  sir,  and  I  must  do  mine;  follow  me. 
Glenn,  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  him." 

"  Don't  you  intend  to  give  me  a  chance  for  my  life,  at 
all  ?" 

"  Give  you  a  chance,  certainly ;  take  the  oath  I  offered 
you." 

"No,  by  my  soul  I'll  die  first;  you  may  do  your 
worst." 

"  Young  man,  you  had  better  reflect;  I  cannot  turn  you 
loose  to  watch  my  footsteps  day  and  night,  and  finally  to 
catch  me  unaware  some  time,  perhaps  to  capture  me,  or 
send  me  to  the  other  world.  No,  sir,  if  you  were  a  sol- 
dier and  possessed  of  a  soldier's  honor,  I  might  offer  you 
different  terms." 

At  this  moment  a  step  was  heard  outside  the  cave ;  a 
man  was  advancing  towards  us  with  long,  rapid  strides; 
he  was  familiar  with  the  spot,  for  turning  the  angle  of 
the  rock,  he  walked  into  the  cave  in  the  off-hand  manner 
of  a  familiar  friend. 

"  Ho,  Perry,  is  that  you  ?  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  I 
said,  and,  extending  my  hand,  welcomed  him  back  to  the 


428  SAM  DE  MORSE,  THE  GUERRILLA. 

cave,  as  did  Hodges  and  Glenn.  The  three  paroled  men 
stood  aloof  from  us  in  the  end  of  the  cave,  while  the 
guerrilla  confronted  me.  As  soon  as  Perry's  eyes  became 
accustomed  to  the  light,  for  he  had  recognized  us  more 
by  voice  than  sight,  he  started  as  if  an  adder  had  stung 
h'im,  and  shouted,  "  Sam  De  Morse  !  Oh,  thanks  for  this," 
and  before  we  could  divine  his  intention,  he  drew  a  pistol 
from  his  belt;  the  guerrilla  saw  the  motion,  and  knew 
the  man ;  Avith  the  quick  instinct  of  self-preservation  he 
bounded  for  the  door;  but  ere  he  reached  it  Perry  caught 
a  running  sight  on  his  body,  and  fired  ;  with  one  last 
desperate  bound  the  guerrilla  reached  the  cliff  and  fell 
headlong  upon  its  very  brink.  With  a  loud  yell  of 
delight  Perry  sprang  to  the  writhing  form,  and  placing 
his  foot  against  the  guerrilla's  side,  he  spurned  him  from 
the  cliff,  and  with  a  wild  shriek  he  went  whirling  down 
the  frowning  chasm. 

Then  turning  to  us,  he  said,  "  How  did  that  man  come 
here?" 

We  briefly  explained  the  affair,  when  he  went  on  to 
explain  his  own  sanguinary  conduct. 

"  You  never  heard  me  mention  the  affair,  perhaps,  for 
it  is  a  sad  story,  and  one  that  almost  drives  me  mad  as 
it  comes  into  my  mind.  I  had  a  bright  eyed  boy,  a  pet 
child,  hung  to  death  by  that  villain,  and  I  swore  not  to 
rest  day  or  night,  until  I  had  avenged  the  death  of  that 
child.  I  had  been  hiding  out  in  the  hills  on  Harpeth 
River  to  keep  from  being  dragged  away  to  the  army,  and 
this  child,  my  oldest  boy,  was  the  only  person  that  knew 
where  I  was  concealed. "  The  little  fellow  was  manly,  far 
beyond  his  years,  for  it  was  he  who  used  to  wander  out 
alone  and  bring  out  provisions  to  eat,  or  I  should  have 
starved  many  a  time  had  it  not  been  for  hisingcnuity  in 
getting  me  food  unobserved.  One  day  this  I)e  Morse, 
with  a  squad  of  his  men,  went  to  my  house,  and  after 
threatening  my  wife  until  she  had  convulsions,  they  took 
my  little  innocent  boy  out  into  the  hills,  and  threatened 


BAM  DE  MORSE,  TUE  GUERRILLA.  429 

to  hang  Mm  if  he  did  not  tell  where  I  was  hidden.  The 
child  refused,  for  he  said  they  would  kill  his  pa ;  they 
then  put  a  rope  around  his  necli;,  and  throwing  the  other 
end  over  a  limb,  they  hauled  him  up  and  kept  him  there 
a  full  minute,  wlien  they  let  him  down  and  revived  him. 
They  then  stormed  at,  and  cursed  him  as  a  little  villain, 
and  told  him  if  he  did  not  tell  where  his  father  was  hid, 
they  would  hang  him  for  good.  It  is  my  opinion  that 
his  throat  was  hurt  so  badly  that  he  could  not  speak,  for 
it  don't  stand  to  reason  that  a  child  could  have  such 
resolution ;  they  could  get  him  to  tell  notliing,  so  they 
pulled  him  up  again.  This  time  they  held  him  up  till  the 
child's  limbs  ceased  to  move,  when  they  let  him  down ; 
they  tried  to  revive  him,  but  they  could  not — my  boy 
was  dead!  The  whole  afl'air  was  witnessed  by  an  old 
negro  man  and  his  daughter ;  but  what  of  that,  their 
evidence  would  not  be  received  in  any  court  in  a  slave 
State.  They  were  hoeing  in  a  field  near  by ;  but  they 
were  afraid  to  approach  as  there  was  no  other  help  near. 
That  man,  De  Morse,  ordered  the  child  hung;  I  am 
satisfied  now ;  I  have  had  revenge  enough ;  but  there 
were  a  dozen  concerned  in  the  affair,  but  I  hope  I  may 
never  meet  them,  for  I  am  afraid  it  will  go  hard  with 
them.  Oh,  I  can't  forgive  them  for  hanging  my  child ;  I 
have  tried,  and  I  can't  do  it." 

His  words  had  made  a  deep  impression  on  us;  we  now 
remembered  hearing  of  the  affair  just  after  it  occurred. 
The  strong  man  leaned  against  the  rocks  and  wept  great 
scalding  tears  of  grief  Presently  we  rallied,  and  all  of 
■us  re-entered  the  cave.  Our  new-made  friends  seemed 
frightened  when  we  went  in  again,  but  when  we  assured 
them  of  our  friendship,  and  gave  them  the  privilege  of 
going  their  way  or  remaining  with  us,  they  asked  a  iittlo 
time  to  consider  the  matter. 

That  night  we  all  sallied  out  to  the  foot  of  the  cliiT, 
and  found  the  dead  bodies,  and  placing  them  in  the  head 
of  a  ravine,  we  covered  them  with  a  pile  of  loose  stones 


430  DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN. 

and  such  other  rubbish  as  we  could  gather  with  our 
hands;  we  gathered  up  the  fragments  of  the  guns, 
ascended  the  mountain,,  and  took  a  narrow  trail,  which 
we  followed  for  nearly  a  mile,  until  we  came  to  an  old 
shanty  built  of  logs  that  had  at  one  time  been  occupied 
by  one  of  my  slaves,  who  used  to  herd  my  cattle  in  the 
mountains;  entering  it,  we  closed  the  door  and  Glenn 
struck  a  light,  and  I  raised  up  a  loose  board  in  the  floor, 
and  there,  in  a  hole  scooped  out  in  the  ground,  was  a 
large  basketful  of  provisions,  which  I  lifted  out,  uncov- 
ered, and  bade  my  comrades  eat.  The  basket  had 
been  placed  there  by  my  boy,  Jep,  who  often  used  that 
place  to  hide  provisions  for  me.  After  a  very  hearty 
supper,  and  a  long  conversation  with  our  paroled  men, 
in  which  they  fully  satisfied  us  that  their  intentions  were 
good,  they  decided  to  cast  their  fortunes  with  us  until 
better  times;  we  all  stretched  ourselves  on  the  floor  of 
the  cabin  and  indulged  in  a  sound  sleep. 


DEATH  OP  BOOTE,  THE  ASSASSIN. 

A  hard  and  grizzl}^  face  overlooks  me  as  I  write.  It'? 
inconsiderable  forehead  is  crowned  with  turning  sandy 
hair,  and  the  deep  concave  of  its  long  insatiate  jaws  is 
almost  hidden  by  a  dense  red  beard,  which  cannot  still 
abate  the  terrible  decision  of  the  large  mouth,  so  well 
sustained  by  searching  eyes  of  spotted  gray,  whicl;  roll 
and  rivet  one.  This  is  the  face  of  Lafayette  Baker, 
Colonel  and  Chief  of  the  Secret  Service.  lie  has  played 
the  most  perilous  parts  of  the  war,  and  is  the  captor 
of  the  late  President's  murderer.  The  stor}^  that  I  am 
to  tell  you,  as  he  and  his  trusty  dependents  told  it  to 
me,  will  be  aptly  commenced  here,  where  the  net  was 
woven  which  took  the  dying  life  of  Wilkes  Booth. 

When  the  murder  occurred,  Colonel  Baker  v.'as 
absent   from  Washington.     lie  returned   on   the    third 


DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN.  431 

morning,  and  -vvas  at  once  brought  by  Secretary  Stanton 
to  join  the  hue  and  cry  against  the  escaped  Booth.  The 
sagacious  detective  found  that  nearly  ten  thousand  cavalry 
and  one-fourth  as  many  policemen  had  been  meantime 
scouring,  ^vithout  plan  or  compass,  the  whole  territory 
of  Southern  Maryland.  They  were  treading  on  each 
others'  heels,  and  mixing  up  the  thing  so  confoundedly, 
that  the  best  place  for  the  culprits  to  have  gone  would 
have  been  in  the  very  midst  of  their  pursuers.  Baker 
at  once  possessed  himself  of  the  little  the  War  Depart- 
ment had  learned,  and  started  immediately  to  take  the 
usual  detective  measures,  till  then  neglected,  of  offering 
a  reward,  and  getting  out  photographs  of  the  suspected 
ones.  He  then  dispatched  a  few  chosen  detectives  to 
certain  vital  points,  and  awaited  results. 

The  first  of  these  was  the  capture  of  Atzeroth.  Others, 
like  the  taking  of  Dr.  Mudge,  simultaneously  occurred. 
But  the  district  suspected  being  remote  from  the  railway 
routes,  and  broken  by  no  telegraph  station,  the  Colonel, 
to  place  himself  nearer  the  theatre  of  events,  ordered  an 
operator,  with  the  necessary  instrument,  to  tap  the  wire 
running  to  Point  Lookout,  near  Chappell's  Point,  and 
send  him  prompt  messages. 

The  same  steamer  which  took  down  the  operator  and 
two  detectives,  brought  back  one  of  the  same  detectives 
and  a  negro.  This  negro,  taken  to  Colonel  Baker's  office, 
stated  so  positively  that  he  had  seen  Booth  and  another 
man  cross  the  Potomac  in  a  fishing  boat,  while  he  was 
looking  down  upon  them  from  a  bank,  that  the  Colonel 
was  at  first  skeptical ;  but,  when  examined,  the  negro 
answered  so  readily  and  intelligently,  recognizing  the 
man  from  the  photographs,  that  Baker  knew  at  last  that 
he  had  the  true  scent. 

Straightway  he  sent  to  General  Hancock  for  twenty- 
five  men,  and  while  the  order  was  going  drew  down  his 
coast  survey  maps  with  that  quick  detective  intuition 
amounting   almost   to    inspiration.     He   cast   upon   the 


432  DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN. 

probable  route  and  destination  of  the  refugees,  as  well 
as  tbe  point  where  he  would  soonest  strike  them.  Booth, 
he  knew,  would  not  keep  along  the  coast,  with  frequent 
deep  rivers  to  cross,  nor,  indeed,  in  any  direction  east  of 
Eichmond,  where  he  was  liable  at  any  time  to  cross  our 
lines  of  occupation;  nor,  being  lame,  could  he  ride  on 
horseback,  so  as  to  place  himself  very  far  westward  of 
his  point  of  debarkation  in  Virginia.  But  he  would 
travel  in  a  direct  course  from  Bluft"  Point,  where  he  crossed 
to  Eastern  Maryland,  and  this  would  take  him  through 
Port  Royal,  on  the  Rappahannock  River,  in  time  to  be 
intercepted  there  by  the  outgoing  cavalry  men. 

When,  therefore,  twenty-five  men,  under  one  Lieu- 
tenant Dougherty,  arrived  at  his  office-doors.  Baker  placed 
the  whole  under  control  of  his  former  Lieutenant-Colonel, 
E.  J.  Conger,  and  of  his  cousin,  Lieutenant  L.  B.  Baker — ■ 
the  first  of  Ohio,  the  last  of  New  York,  and  bade  them 
go  with  all  dispatch  to  Belle  Plain,  on  the  Lower  Poto- 
mac, there  to  disembark  and  scour  the  country  faithfully 
around  Port  Royal,  but  not  to  return  unless  they  captured 
their  men. 

Quitting  Washington  at  two  o'clock  P.  M,  on  Monday, 
the  detectives  and  cavalrymen  disembarked  at  Belle 
Plain,  on  the  border  of  Stafford  County,  at  ten  o'clock,  in 
the  darkness.  Belle  Plain  is  simply  the  nearest  landing 
to  Fredericksburg,  seventy  miles  from  Washington  city, 
and  located  upon  Potomac  Creek.  It  is  a  wharf  and 
warehouse  merely,  and  here  the  steamer  John  S.  Lie 
stopped  and  made  fiist,  while  the  party  galloped  off  in  the 
darkness.  Conger  and  Baker  kept  ahead,  riding  up  to 
farm-houses  and  questioning  the  inmates,  pretending  tc 
be  in  search  of  the  Maryland  gentlemen  belonging  to  the 
part}'-.  But  nobody  had  seen  the  parties  described,  and 
after  a  futile  ride  on  the  Fredericksburg  road,  they  turned 
shortly  to  the  east,  and  kept  up  their  bafilod  inquiries  all 
the  way  to  Port  Conway,  on  the  Rappahannock, 

On  Tuesday  morning  they  presented   themselves  at 


DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN.  433 

tte  Port  Rojal  Ferry,  and  inquired  of  the  ferryman, 
while  he  was  taking  them  over  in  squads  of  seven  at  a 
time,  if  he  had  seen  any  two  such  men.  Continuing  their 
inquiries  at  Port  Royal,  they  found  one  Rollins,  a  fisher- 
man, who  referred  them  to  a  negro,  named  Lucas,  as 
having  driven  two  men  a  short  distance  towards  Bowling 
Green,  in  a  wagon.  It  was  found  that  these  men  answered 
to  the  description,  Booth  having  a  crutch,  as  previously 
ascertained. 

The  day  before  Booth  and  Harold  had  applied  at  Port 
Conway  for  the  general  ferry-boat,  but  the  ferryman  was 
then  fishing,  and  would  not  desist  for  the  inconsiderable 
fare  of  only  two  persons ;  but  to  their  supposed  good 
fortune  a  lot  of  Confederate  cavalrymen  just  then  came 
along,  who  threatened  the  ferryman  with  a  shot  in  the 
head  if  he  did  not  instantly  bring  across  his  craft 
and  transport  the  entire  party.  These  cavalrymen 
were  of  Moseby's  disbanded  command,  returning  from 
Fairfax  Court  House  to  their  homes  in  Caroline  County. 
Their  captain  was  on  his  way  to  visit  a  sweetheart  at 
Bowling  Green,  and  he  had  so  far  taken  Booth  under  his 
patronage,  that  when  the  latter  was  haggling  with  Lucas 
for  a  team,  he  offered  both  Booth  and  Harold  the  use  of 
his  horse  to  ride  and  walk  alternately. 

This  is  the  court-house  town  of  Caroline  County,  a 
small  and  scattered  place,  having  within  it  an  ancient 
tavern,  no  longer  used  for  other  than  lodging  purposes ; 
but  here  they  hauled  from  his  bed  the  captain  aforesaid, 
and  bade  him  dress  himself.  As  soon  as  he  comprehended 
the  matter  he  became  pallid,  and  eagerly  narrated  the 
facts  in  his  possession.  Booth,  to  his  knowledge,  was 
then  lying  at  the  house  of  one  Garrett,  which  they  had 
passed,  and  Harold  had  departed  the  existing  day  with 
the  intention  of  rejoining  him. 

Taking  this  captain  along  for  a  guide,  the  worn-out 
horsemen  retraced,  though  some  of  the  men  were  so 
haggard  and  wasted  with  travel  that  they  had  to  be 
28 


434  DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIW. 

kicked  into  intelligence  before  thej  could  climb  to  their 
saddles.  The  objects  of  the  chase  thus  at  hand,  the 
detectives,  full  of  sanguine  purpose,  hurried  the  cortege 
so  well  along  that  by  two  o'clock  early  morning  all 
halted  at  Garrett's  gate.  In  the  pale  moonlight,  three 
hundred  yards  from  the  main  road,  to  the  left,  a  plain, 
old  farm-house  looked  grayly  through  the  environing 
locusts.  It  was  worn,  and  white- washed,  and  two-storied, 
and  its  half-human  windows  glowered  down  upon  the 
silent  cavalrymen  like  watching  owls,  which  stood  as 
sentries  over  some  horrible  secret  asleep  within. 

Dimly  seen  behind,  an  old  barn,  high  and  weather- 
beaten,  faced  the  roadside  gate,  for  the  house  itself  lay  to 
the  left  of  its  own  lane ;  and  nestling  beneath  the  barn  a 
few  long  corn-cribs  lay  with  a  cattle  shed  at  hand. 

In  the  dead  stillness.  Baker  dismounted  and  forced  the 
outer  gate,  Conger  kept  close  behind  him,  and  the  horse- 
men followed  cautiously.  They  made  no  noise  in  the 
soft  clay,  nor  broke  the  all-foreboding  silence  anywhere, 
till  the  second  gate  swung  open  gratingly,  yet  even  then 
nor  hoarse  nor  shrill  response  came  back,  save  distant 
croaking,  as  of  frogs  or  owls,  or  the  whiz  of  some  passing 
night-hawk.  So  they  suri'ounded  the  pleasant  old  home- 
stead, each  horseman,  carbine  in  poise,  adjusted  under 
the  grove  of  locusts,  so  as  to  inclose  the  dwelling  with  a 
circle  of  fire.  After  a  pause,  Baker  rode  to  the  kitchen 
door  on  the  side,  and  dismounting,  rapped  and  halloed 
lustily.  An  old  man,  in  drawers  and  night-shirt,  hastily 
undrew  the  bolts,  and  stood  on  the  threshold,  peering 
shiveringly  into  the  darkness. 

Baker  seized  him  by  the  throat  at  once,  and  held  a 
pistol  to  his  ear. 

"  Who,  who  is  it  that  calls  me  ?"  cried  the  old  man. 

"  Where  are  the  men  who  stay  with  you  ?"  challenged 
Baker.     "  If  you  prevaricate,  you  are  a  dead  man  !" 

The  old  fellow,  who  proved  to  be  the  head  of  the 


DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN.  435 

family,  was  so  overawed  and  paralyzed  that  lie  stammered 
and  shook  and  said  not  a  word. 

"Go  light  a  candle,"  cried  Baker  sternly,  "and  be 
quick  about  it." 

The  trembling  old  man  obeyed,  and  in  a  moment  the 
imperfect  rays  flared  upon  his  Avhiteuing  hairs,  and 
bluishly  pallid  face.  Theil  the  question  was  repeated, 
backed  up  by  the  glimmering  pistol.  "  Where  are  these 
men  ?" 

The  old  man  held  to  the  wall,  and  his  knees  smote 
each  other.  "They  are  gone,"  he  said.  "We  haven't 
got  them  in  the  house ;  I  assure  you  that  they  are  gone." 

In  the  interim  Gonger  had  also  entered,  and  while  the 
household  and  its  invaders  were  thus  in  weird  tableaux, 
a  young  man  appeared,  as  if  he  had  risen  from  the  ground. 
The  eyes  of  everybody  turned  upon  him  in  a  second; 
but,  while  he  blanched,  he  did  not  lose  loquacity. 
"Father,"  he  said,  "we  had  better  tell  the  truth  about 
the  matter.  Those  men  whom  you  seek,  gentlemen,  are 
'in  the  barn,  I  know.  They  went  there  to  sleep."  Leav- 
ing one  soldier  to  guard  the  old  man — and  the  soldier 
was  very  glad  of  the  job,  as  it  relieved  him  of  personal 
hazard  in  the  approaching  combat — all  the  rest,  with 
cocked  pistols  at  the  young  man's  head,  followed  on  to 
the  barn.  It  lay  a  hundred  yards  from  the  house,  the 
front  barn  door  facing  the  west  gable,  and  was  an  old  and 
spacious  structure,  with  floors  only  a  trifle  above  the 
ground  level. 

The  troops  dismounted,  were  stationed  at  regular  inter- 
vals around  it,  and  ten  yards  distant  at  every  point,  four 
special  guards  placed  to  command  the  door,  and  all  with 
weapons  in  supple  preparation,  while  Baker  and  Conger 
went  direct  to  the  door.  It  had  a  padlock  upon  it,  and 
the  key  of  this  Baker  secured  at  once.  In  the  interval 
of  silence  that  ensued,  the  rustling  of  planks  and  straw 
was  heard  inside,  as  of  persons  rising  from  sleep. 

At  the  same  moment  Baker  hailed : — 


436  DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN. 

"To  the  persons  in  this  barn  I  have  a  proposal  to 
make.  We  are  about  to  send  into  you  the  son  of  the 
man  in  whose  custody  you  are  found.  Either  surrender 
to  him  your  arms  and  then  give  yourself  up,  or  we'll  set 
fire  to  the  place.  We  mean  to  take  you  both,  or  to  have 
a  bonfire  and  a  shooting  match." 

No  answer  came  to  this  of  any  kind.  The  lad,  John 
M.  Garrett,  who  was  in  deadly  fear,  was  here  pushed 
through  the  door  by  a  sudden  opening  of  it,  and  imme- 
diately Lieutenant  Baker  locked  the  door  on  the  outside. 
The  boy  was  heard  to  state  his  appeal  in  under  tones. 
Booth  replied : — 

" you.    Get  out  of  here.    You  have  betrayed  me." 

At  the  same  time  he  placed  his  hand  in  his  pocket  as 
for  a  pistol.  A  remonstrance  followed ;  but  the  boy 
slipped  on  and  over  the  re-opened  portal,  reporting  that 
his  errand  had  failed,  and  that  he  dare  not  enter  again. 
All  this  time  the  candle  brought  from  the  house  to  the 
barn  was  burning  close  beside  the  two  detectives,  render- 
ing it  easy  for  any  one  within  to  have  shot  them  dead. 
This  observed,  the  light  was  cautiously  removed,  and 
everybody  took  care  to  keep  out  of  its  reflection.  By 
this  time  the  crisis  of  the  position  was  at  hand ;  the 
cavalry  exhibited  very  variable  inclinations,  some  to  run 
away,  others  to  shoot  Booth  without  a  summons,  but  all 
excited  and  fitfully  silent.  At  the  house  near  by,  the 
female  folks  were  seen  collected  in  the  doorway,  and  the 
necessities  of  the  case  provoked  prompt  conclusions.  The 
boy  was  placed  at  a  remote  point,  and  the  summons 
repeated  by  Baker  : — 

"  You  must  surrender  inside  there.  Give  up  your 
arms  and  appear.  There's  no  chance  for  escape.  We 
give  you  five  minutes  to  make  up  your  mind." 

A  bold,  clarion  reply  came  from  within,  so  strong  as 
to  be  heard  at  the  house  door : — 

"  Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want  with  us?" 
.  Baker  again  urged : — 


DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN.  43? 

"  We  want  you  to  deliver  up  your  arms,  and  become 

our  prisoners  ?" 

"  But  who  are  you  ?"  hallooed  the  same  strong  voice. 

"  That  makes  no  difference.  We  know  who  you  are, 
and  we  want  you.  We  have  here  fifty  men,  armed  with 
carbines  and  pistols.     You  cannot  escape." 

There  was  a  long  pause,  and  then  Booth  said : — 

"  Captain,  this  is  a  hard  case,  I  swear.  Perhaps  I  am 
being  taken  by  my  own  friends." 

No  reply  from  the  detectives. 

"  Well,  give  us  a  little  time  to  consider." 

"Very  well.     Take  time." 

Here  ensued  a  long  and  eventful  pause.  What 
thronging  memories  it  brought  to  Booth  we  can  only 
guess.  In  this  little  interval  he  made  the  resolve  to  die. 
But  he  was  cool  and  steady  to  the  end.  Baker,  after  a 
lapse,  hailed  for  the  last  time : — 

"  Well,  we  have  waited  long  enough  ;  surrender  your 
arms  and  come  out,  or  we'll  fire  the  barn." 

Booth  answered  thus : — 

/'I  am  but  a  cripple,  a  one-legged  man.  Withdraw 
your  forces  one  hundred  yards  from  the  door,  and  I  will 
come.  Give  me  a  chance  for  my  life,  captain.  I  will 
never  be  taken  alive." 

"  We  did  not  come  here  to  fight,  but  to  capture  you. 
I  say  again  appear,  or  the  barn  shall  be  fired." 

Then,  with  a  long  breath,  which  could  be  heard  out- 
side, Booth  cried,  in  sudden  calmness,  still  invisible,  as 
were  to  him  his  enemies : — 

"  Well,  then,  my  brave  boys,  prepare  a  stretcher  for 
me." 

There  was  a  pause  repeated,  broken  by  low  discussions 
within  between  Booth  and  his  associate,  the  former  say- 
ing, as  if  in  answer  to  some  remonstrance  or  appeal, 

"  Get  away  from  me.    You  are  a coward,  and  mean 

to  leave  me  in  my  distress;  but  go,  go.     I  don't  want 


438  DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN. 

you  to  stay.  I  won't  have  you  sta}^"  Then  he  shouted 
aloud: — 

"  There's  a  man  inside  who  wants  to  surrender." 

"  Let  him  come,  if  he  will  bring  his  arms." 

Here  Harold,  rattling  at  the  door,  said:  "Let  me  out; 
open  the  door ;  I  want  to  surrender." 

"  Hand  out  your  arms,  then." 

"  I  have  not  got  any." 

"  You  are  the  man  who  carried  the  carbine  yesterday ; 
bring  it  out." 

"  I  haven't  got  any." 

This  was  said  in  a  whining  tone,  and  with  an  almost 
visible  shiver.     Booth  cried  aloud  at  this  hesitation : — 

"  He  hasn't  got  any  arms ;  they  are  mine,  and  I  have 
kept  them." 

"  Well,  he  carried  the  carbine,  and  must  bring  it  out." 

"  On  the  Avord  and  honor  of  a  gentleman,  he  has  no 
arms  with  him.     They  are  mine,  and  I  have  got  them." 

At  this  time  Harold  was  quite  up  to  the  door,  within 
whispering  distance  of  Baker.  The  laiter  told  him  to 
put  out  his  hands  to  be  handcuffed,  at  the  same  time 
drawing  open  the  door  a  little  distance.  Harold  thrust 
forth  his  hands,  when  Baker,  seizing  him,  jerked  him 
into  the  night,  and  straightway  delivered  him  over  to  a 
deputation  of  cavalrymen.  The  fellow  began  to  talk  of 
his  innocence  and  plead  so  noisily  that  Conger  threatened 
to  gag  him  unless  he  ceased.  Then  Booth  made  his  last 
api^eal  in  the  same  clear,  unbroken  voice : — 

"  Captain,  give  me  a  chance.  Draw  off  your  men  and 
I  will  light  them  singly.  I  could  have  killed  you  six 
times  to-night,  but  I  believe  you  to  be  a  brave  man,  and 
would  not  murder  you.     Give  a  lame  man  a  show." 

It  was  too  late  for  parley.  All  this  time  Booth's  voice 
had  sounded  from  the  middle  of  the  barn. 

Ere  he  ceased  .speaking,  Colonel  Conger  slipped  around 
to  the  rear,  drew  some  loose  straws  through  a  crack,  and 
lit  a  match  upon  them.     They  were  dry,  and  blazed  up 


DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN.  439 

in  an  instant,  carrying  a  sheet  of  smoke  and  flame  through 
the  parted  phinks,  and  heaving  in  a  twinkling  a  world 
of  light  and  heat  upon  the  magazine  within.  The  blaze 
lit  up  the  black  recesses  of  the  great  barn  till  every  wasp's 
nest  and  cobweb  in  the  roof  were  luminous;  flinging 
streaks  of  red  and  violet  across  the  tumbled  farm  gear 
in  the  corner,  ploughs,  harrows,  hoes,  rakes,  sugar-mills, 
and  making  every  separate  grain  in  the  high  bin  adjacent 
gleam  like  a  mote  of  precious  gold.  They  tinged  the 
beams,  the  upright  columns,  the  barricades,  where  clover 
and  timothy,  piled  high,  held  toward  the  hot  incendiary 
their  separate  straws  for  the  funeral  pile.  They  bathed 
the  murderer's  retreat  in  a  beautiful  illumination,  and 
while  in  bold  outline  his  figure  stood  revealed,  they  rose 
like  an  impenetrable  wall  to  guard  from  sight  the  hated 
enemy  who  lit  them. 

Behind  the  blaze,  with  his  eye  to  a  crack,  Conger  saw 
"Wilkes  Booth  standing  upright  upon  a  crutch.  He 
likens  him  at  this  instant  to  his  brother  Edwin,  whom, 
he  says,  he  so  much  resembled  that  he  half  believed,  for 
the  moment,  the  whole  pursuit  to  have  been  a  mistake. 
At  the  gleam  of  the  fire  Wilkes  dropped  his  crutch  and 
carbine,  and  on  both  hands  crept  to  the  spot  to  espy  the 
incendiary  and  shoot  him  dead.  His  eyes  were  lustrous 
like  fever,  and  swelled  and  rolled  in  terrible  beauty, 
while  his  teeth  were  fixed,  and  he  wore  the  expression 
of  one  in  the  calmness  before  frenzy.  In  vain  he  peered, 
with  vengeance  in  his  look;  the  blaze  that  made  him 
visible  concealed  his  enemy.  A  second  he  turned  glaring 
at  the  fire  as  if  to  leap  upon  it  and  extinguish  it,  but  it 
had  made  such  headway  that  this  was  a  futile  impulse, 
and  he  dismissed  it.  As  calmly  as  upon  the  battle-field 
a  veteran  stands  amidst  the  hail  of  ball,  and  shell,  and 
plunging  iron.  Booth  turned  at  a  man's  stride  and  pushed 
for  the  door,  carbine  in  poise,  and  the  last  resolve  of 
death,  which  we  name  despair,  sat  on  his  high,  bloodless 
forehead. 


440  DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSlIf. 

And  so  he  dashed,  intent  to  expire  not  unaccompanied, 
a  disobedient  sergeant  at  an  eyehole  drew  upon  him  the 
fatal  bead.  The  barn  was  all  glorious  with  conflagration, 
and  in  the  beautiful  ruin  this  outlawed  man  strode  like 
all  that  we  know  of  wicked  valor,  stern  in  the  face  of 
death.  A  shock,  a  shout,  a  gathering  up  of  his  splendid 
figure  as  if  to  overtip  the  stature  God  gave  him,  and  John 
Wilkes  Booth  fell  headlong  to  the  floor,  lying  there  in  a 
heap,  a  little  life  remaining.     But  no. 

"lie  has  shot  himself,"  cried  Baker,  unaware  of  the 
source  of  the  report,  and  rushing  in  he  grasped  his  arm 
to  guard  against  any  feint  or  strategy,  A  moment  con- 
vinced him  that  further  struggle  with  the  prone  flesh  was 
useless.  Booth  did  not  move,  nor  breathe,  nor  gasp. 
Conger  and  the  two  sergeants  now  entered,  and  taking  up 
the  body  they  bore  it  in  haste  from  the  advancing  flame 
and  laid  it  without  upon  the  grass,  all  fresh  with  heavenly 
dew. 

"  Water,"  cried  Conger,  "  bring  water." 

When  this  was  dashed  into  his  face  he  revived  a 
moment  and  stirred  his  lips.  Baker  put  his  ear  close 
down  and  heard  him  say  : — 

"  Tell  mother — and — die — for  my  country," 

They  lifted  him  again,  the  fire  encroaching  in  hotnesa 
upon  them,  and  placed  him  on  the  porch  before  the  dwell- 
ing. 

A  mattress  was  brought  down,  on  which  they  placed 
him  and  propped  his  head,  and  gave  him  water  and 
brandy.  The  women  of  the  household,  joined  meantime 
by  another  son,  who  had  been  found  in  one  of  the  corn- 
cribs,  watching,  as  he  said,  to  see  that  Booth  and  Harold 
did  not  steal  the  horses,  were  nervous,  but  prompt  to  do 
the  dying  man  all  kindnesses,  although  waved  sternly 
back  by  the  detectives.  They  dipped  a  rag  in  brandy 
and  water,  and  this  being  pnit  between  Booth's  teeth,  he 
sucked  it  greedily.  When  he  was  able  to  articulate  again, 
}ko  muttered  to  Mr.  Baker  the  same  words  with  an  addenda ; 


DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN.  441 

"Tell  mother  I  died  for  my  country.  I  thought  I  did 
for  the  best."  Baker  repeated  this,  saving  at  the  same 
time,  "Booth,  do  I  repeat  it  correctly?"  Booth  nodded 
his  head.  By  this  time  the  grayuess  of  dawn  was 
approaching ;  moving  figures  inquisitively  coming  near 
were  to  be  seen  distinctly,  and  the  cocks  began  to  crow 
gutturally,  though  the  barn  by  this  time  was  a  hulk  of 
blaze  and  ashes,  sending  towards  the  zenith  a  spiral  line 
of  dense  smoke. 

The  women  became  importunate  at  this  time  that  the 
troops  might  be  ordered  to  extinguish  the  fire,  which 
was  spreading  toward  their  precious  corn-cribs.  Not 
even  death  could  banish  the  call  of  interest.  Soldiers 
were  sent  to  put  out  the  fire,  and  Booth,  relieved  of  the 
bustle  around  hira,  drew  near  to  death  apace.  Twice  he 
was  heard  to  say,  "  Kill  me,  kill  me."  His  lips  often 
moved,  but  could  complete  no  appreciable  sound.  He 
made  once  a  motion,  which  the  quick  eye  of  Conger 
understood  to  mean  that  his  throat  pained  him.  Conger 
put  his  finger  there,  when  the  dying  man  attempted  to 
cough,  but  only  caused  the  blood  at  his  perforated  neck 
to  flow  more  lively.  He  bled  very  little,  although  shot 
quite  through,  beneath  and  behind  the  ears,  his  collar 
being  severed  on  both  sides. 

A  soldier  had  been  meanwhile  dispatched  for  a  doctor, 
but  the  route  and  return  was  quite  six  miles,  and  the 
sinner  was  sinking  fast.  Still  the  women  made  efibrts 
to  get  to  see  him,  but  were  always  rebuffed,  and  all  the 
brandy  they  could  find  was  demanded  by  the  assassin, 
who  motioned  for  strong  drink  every  two  minutes.  He 
made  frequent  desires  to  be  turned  over,  not  by  speech, 
but  by  gesture,  and  he  was  alternately  placed  upon  his 
back,  belly,  and  side.  His  tremendous  vitality  evidenced 
itself  almost  miraculously.  Now  and  then  his  heart 
would  cease  to  throb,  and  his  pulse  would  be  as  cold  as 
a  dead  man's.  Directly  life  would  begin  anew,  the  face 
would  flush  up  effulgently,  the  eyes  open  and  brighten. 


442  DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN. 

and  soon  relapsing,  stillness  reasserted,  would  again  be 
dispossessed  by  the  same  magnificent  triumph  of  man 
over  mortality.  Finally  the  fussy  little  doctor  arrived, 
in  time  to  be  useless.  He  probed  the  wound  to  see  if 
the  ball  were  not  in  it,  and  shook  his  head  sagely,  and 
talked  learnedly. 

Just  at  his  coming  Booth  had  asked  to  have  his  hands 
raised  and  shown  him.  They  were  so  paralyzed  that  he 
did  not  know  their  location.  When  they  were  displayed, 
he  muttered,  with  a  sad  lethargy,  "Useless,  useless." 
These  were  the  last  words  he  ever  uttered.  As  he  began 
to  die  the  sun  rose  and  threw  beams  into  all  the  tree-tops. 
It  was  at  a  man's  height  when  the  struggle  of  death 
twitched  and  lingered  in  the  fading  bravo's  face.  His 
jaw  drew  spasmodically  and  obliquely  downward;  his 
eyeballs  rolled  toward  his  feet,  and  began  to  swell;  livid- 
ness,  like  a  horrible  shadow,  fastened  upon  him,  and 
with  a  sort  of  gurgle  and  sudden  check,  he  stretched  his 
feet  and  threw  his  head  back  and  gave  up  the  ghost. 

They  sewed  him  up  in  a  saddle-blanket.  This  was  his 
shroud  ;  too  like  a  soldier's.  Harold,  meantime,  had  been 
tied  to  a  tree,  but  was  now  released  for  the  march. 
Colonel  Conger  pushed  on  immediately  for  Washington; 
the  cortege  was  to  follow.  Booth's  only  arms  were  his 
carbine,  knife,  and  two  revolvers.  They  found  about 
him  bills  of  exchange,  Canada  money,  and  a  diary.  A 
venerable  old  negro  living  in  the  vicinity  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  possess  a  horse.  This  horse  was  the  relic  of 
former  generations,  and  showed  by  his  protruding  ribs 
the  general  leanness  of  the  land.  He  moved  in  an  eccen- 
tric amble,  and  when  put  upon  his  speed  was  generally 
run  backwards.  To  this  old  negro's  horse  was  harnessed 
a  very  shaky  and  absurd  wagon,  which  rattled  like  ap- 
proaching dissolution,  and  each  part  of  it  ran  without  any 
eonnection  or  correspondence  with  any  other  part.  It 
had  no  tail-board,  and  its  shafts  were  sharp  as  famine; 
and  into  this  mimicry  of  a  vehicle  the  murderer  was  to 


DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN.  443 

"be  sent  to  the  Potomac  Eiver,  while  the  man  he  had 
murdered  was  moving  in  state  across  the  mourning  con- 
tinent. The  old  negro  geared  up  his  wagon  by  means  of 
a  set  of  fossil  harness,  and  when  it  was  backed  to  Garrett'3 
porch,  they  laid  within  it  the  discolored  corpse.  The 
corpse  was  tied  with  ropes  around  the  legs,  and  made 
fast  to  the  wagon  side. 

Harold's  legs  were  tied  to  stirrups,  and  he  was  placed 
in  the  centre  of  four  murderous-looking  cavalrymen. 
These  two  sons  of  Garrett  were  also  taken  along,  despite 
the  sobs  and  petitions  of  the  old  folks  and  women,  but 
the  Eebel  Captain  who  had  given  Booth  a  lift,  got  off 
amidst  the  night's  agitations,  and  was  not  rearrested. 
So  moved  the  cavalcade  of  retribution,  with  death  in  its 
midst,  along  the  road  to  Port  Royal.  When  the  wagon 
started.  Booth's  wound,  now  scarcely  dribbling,  began 
to  run  anew.  It  fell  through  the  crack  of  the  wagon,  and 
fell  dripping  upon  the  axle,  and  spotting  the  road  with 
terrible  wafers.  It  stained  the  planks  and  soaked  the 
blankets ;  and  the  old  negro,  at  a  stoppage,  dabbled  his 
hands  in  it  by  mistake;  he  drew  back  instantly,  with  a 
shudder  and  stifled  expletive,  "Gor-r-r,  dat  '11  never  conie 
off  in  de  world;  it's  murderer's  blood."  He  wrung  his 
hands,  and  looked  imploringly  at  the  ofl&cers,  and  shud- 
dered again;  "Gor-r-r,  I  wouldn't  have  dat  on  mc  for 
tousand,  tousand  dollars." 

The  progress  of  the  team  was  slow,  with  frequent 
danger  of  shipwreck  altogether,  but  toward  noon  the 
cortege  filed  through  Port  Royal,  where  the  citizens 
came  out  to  ask  the  matter,  and  why  a  man's  body, 
covered  with  sombre  blankets,  was  going  by  with  so 
great  escort.  They  were  told  that  it  was  a  wounded 
Confederate,  and  so  held  their  tongues.  The  little  ferry, 
again  in  requisition,  took  them  over  by  squads,  and  they 
pushed  from  Port  Conway  to  Belle  Plain,  which  they 
reached  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  All  the  way 
the  blood  dribbled  from  the  corpse  in  a  slow,  incessant, 


444  DEATH  OF  BOOTH,  THE  ASSASSIN. 

sanguine  exudation.  The  old  negro  was  niggardly  dis- 
missed with  two  paper  dollars.  The  dead  man  untied 
and  cast  upon  the  vessel's  deck,  steam  gotten  up  in  a 
little  while,  and  the  broad  Potomac  shores  saw  this 
skeleton  ship  flit  by,  as  the  bloody  sun  threw  gashes 
and  blots  of  unhealthy  light  along  the  silver  surface. 

All  the  way  associate  with  the  carcass  went  Harold, 
shuddering  in  so  grim  companionship,  and  in  the 
awakened  fears  of  his  own  approaching  ordeal,  beyond 
which  it  loomed  already,  the  gossamer  fabric  of  a  scaffold. 
He  tried  to  talk  for  his  own  exoneration,  saying  he  had 
ridden  as  was  his  wont,  beyond  the  East  Branch,  and 
returning  found  Booth  wounded,  who  begged  him  to  be 
his  companion.  Of  his  crime  he  knew  nothing,  so  help 
him  God,  &c.  But  nobody  listened  to  him.  All  interest 
of  crime,  courage  and  retribution  centred  in  the  dead 
flesh  at  his  feet.  At  Washington,  high  and  low  turned 
out  to  look  on  Booth.  Only  a  few  were  permitted  to  see 
his  corpse  for  purposes  of  recognition.  It  was  fairly 
preserved,  though  on  one  side  of  the  face  distorted,  and 
looking  blue  like  death,  and  wildly  bandit-like,  as  if 
beaten  by  avenging  winds. 

Finally,  the  Secretary  of  War,  without  instructions 
of  any  kind,  committed  to  Colonel  Lafayette  C.  Baker,  of 
the  Secret  Service,  the  stark  corpse  of  J.  Wilkes  Booth. 
The  Secret  Service  never  fulfilled  its  vocation  more  se- 
cretly. "  What  have  you  done  with  the  body?"  said  I  to 
Baker.  "That  is  known,"  he  answered,  "to  only  one 
man  living  besides  myself.  It  is  gone,  I  will  not  tell 
you  where ;  the  only  man  who  knows  is  sworn  to  silence; 
never  till  the  great  trumpeter  comes  shall  the  grave  of 
Booth  be  discovered."  And  this  is  true.  Last  night, 
the  27th  of  April,  a  small  row-boat  received  the  carcass 
of  the  murderer ;  two  men  were  in  it ;  they  carried  the 
body  off"  into  the  darkness,  and  out  of  that  darkness  it 
will  never  return ;  in  the  darkness,  like  his  great  crime, 


HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS.  445 

may  it  remain  forever ;  impalpable,  invisible  nondescript, 
condemned  to  that  worse  than  damnation — annihilation. 

The  river  bottom  may  ooze  about  it  laden  with  great 
shot  and  drowning  manacles.  The  earth  may  have 
opened  to  give  it  that  silence  and  forgiveness  which  man 
will  never  give  to  its  memory.  The  fishes  may  swim 
around  it,  or  the  daisies  grow  white  above  it ;  but  we 
shall  never  know.  Mysterious,  incomprehensible,  un- 
attainable, like  the  dim  times  through  which  we  live, 
and  think  upon  it  as  if  we  only  dreamed  them  in  a  pur- 
turbed  fever ;  the  assassin  of  a  nation's  head  rests  some- 
where in  the  elements,  and  that  is  all ;  but  if  the  indignant 
seas  or  the  profaned  turf  shall  ever  vomit  this  corpse 
from  their  recesses,  and  it  receives  Christian  burial  from 
some  one  who  does  not  recognize  it,  let  the  last  words 
those  decaying  lips  ever  uttered  be  carved  above  them 
with  a  dagger,  to  tell  the  history  of  a  young  and  once 
promising  life — useless!  useless! 


HANGING  or  THE  CONSPIEATOES. 

On  the  9th  of  July,  1865,  at  as  early  an  hour  as  eight 
A.  M.,  says  an  eye-witness,  people  commenced  to  wend 
their  way  down  to  the  prison,  and  the  boats  to  Alexan- 
dria, which  ran  close  by  the  jail,  were  crowded  all  day 
by  those  who  took  the  trip  in  hopes  of  catching  a  glimpse 
of  the  gallows,  or  of  the  execution,  but  it  was  all  in  vain. 
The  only  position  outside  of  the  jail  that  could  be  used 
as  an  observatory,  was  the  large  building  upon  the  left 
side  of  the  Arsenal,  which  had  about  fifty  spectators 
upon  it,  who  had  a  good  view  of  the  whole. 

Between  nine  and  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  three 
ante- rooms  of  the  prison,  on  the  first  floor,  were  thronged 
with  army  officers,  principally  of  Hancock's  corps,  anxious 
to  get  a  view  of  the  execution  from  the  windows,  from 
"which  the  scaffold  could  be  plainly  seen.     The  newspaper 


tiS  HANGING  OP  THE  CONSPIRATORS. 

reporters  soon  began  to  congregate  there  also,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  not  less  than  a  score  were  in  attendance, 
waiting  to  pick  up  the  smallest  item  of  interest.  No 
newspaper  man  was  allowed  to  see  the  prisoners  in  their 
cells  before  they  were  led  out  to  execution,  and  General 
Hartranft  was  very  decided  on  this  point. 

While  waiting  here  for  over  two  hours,  the  clergymen 
passed  in  and  out  through  the  heavily  riveted  doors 
leading  to  the  prisoners'  cells,  which  creaked  heavily  on 
its  hinges  as  it  swung  to  and  fro,  and  the  massive  key 
was  turned  upon  the  inner  side  with  a  heavy  sound  as  a 
visitor  was  admitted  within  its  portals. 

Mrs.  Surratt's  daughter  passed  into  the  ante-room, 
accompanied  by  a  lady,  who  remained  seated,  while  the 
daughter  rapidly  entered  the  hall,  and,  passing  through 
the  heavy  door,  is  soon  in  the  corridor  where  her  mother 
is  incarcerated. 

Messrs.  Cox,  Doster,  Aiken,  and  Clampitt,  counsel  for 
the  prisoners,  are  specially  passed  in  for  a  short  interview, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  they  return  again  to  the  ante-rooms. 
Time  flies  rapidly,  and  not  a  moment  is  to  be  lost.  No 
useless  words  are  to  be  spoken,  but  earnest  terse  sentences 
are  from  necessity  employed  when  conversing  with  the 
doomed  prisoners,  whose  lives  are  now  measured  by 
minutes. 

Aiken  and  Clampitt  are  both  here.  They  walk  im- 
patiently up  and  down  the  room,  whispering  a  word  to 
each  other  as  to  the  prospects  of  Mrs.  Surratt's  being  re- 
prieved through  tlie  operations  of  the  habeas  corpus, 
which,  Aiken  confidently  tells  us,  has  been  granted  by 
Justice  Wylie,  and  from  which  he  anticipates  favorable 
results.  Strange  infatuation !  It  was  the  last  straw  to 
which,  like  drowning  men,  they  clutched  with  the  fond 
hope  that  it  was  to  rescue  their  client  from  her  imminent 
peril. 

Atzeroth  passed  the  night  previous  to  the  execution 
without  any  particular  manifestations.     He  prayed  and 


HANGING  OP  THE  CONSPIRATORS,  44 1 

cried  alternately,  but  made  no  other  noise  that  attracted 
the  attention  of  his  keeper.  On  the  morning  of  the  exe- 
cution he  sat  most  of  the  time  on  the  floor  of  his  cell  in 
his  shirt  sleeves. 

He  was  attended  by  a  lady  dressed  in  deep  black,  who 
carried  a  prayer-book,  and  who  seemed  more  exercised 
in  spirit  than  the  prisoner  himself.  Who  the  lady  was 
could  not  be  ascertained.  She  left  him  at  half-past  twelve 
o'clock,  and  exhibited  great  emotion  at  parting. 

During  the  morning  Atzeroth  was  greatly  composed, 
and  spent  part  of  the  time  in  earnest  conversation  with 
his  spiritual  adviser,  Kev.  Mr.  Butler,  of  St.  Paul's 
Lutheran  Church,  Washington.  He  occupied  cell  No. 
151  on  the  ground  floor,  which  was  directly  in  view 
of  the  yard,  where  he  could  see  the  gathering  crowd  and 
soldiery,  although  he  could  not  see  the  scaffold.  He 
sat  in  the  corner  of  his  cell  on  his  bed,  and  when  his 
spiritual  adviser  would  go  out  for  a  few  minutes  and 
leave  his  testament  in  his  hands,  his  eves  would  be 
dropped  to  it  in  a  moment,  and  occasionally  wander  with 
a  wild  look  towards  the  open  window  in  front  of  his  cell. 

He  wore  nothing  but  a  white  linen  shirt  and  a  gray 
pair  of  pants.  The  long  irons  upon  his  hands,  which  he 
had  worn  during  the  trial,  were  not  removed. 

Atzeroth  made  a  partial  confession  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Butler,  a  few  hours  before  his  execution.  He  stated  that 
he  took  a  room  at  the  Kirk  wood  House  on  Thursday 
afternoon,  and  was  engaged  in  endeavoring  to  get  a  pass 
to  Richmond.  He  then  heard  the  President  was  to  be 
taken  to  the  theatre  and  there  captured.  He  said  he 
understood  that  Booth  was  to  rent  the  theatre  for  the 
purpose  of  carrying  out  the  plot  to  capture  the  President. 
He  stated  that  Harold  brought  the  pistol  and  knife  to  the 
Kirkwood  House,  and  that  he  (Atzeroth)  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  attempted  assassination  of  Andrew  Johnson. 

Booth  intended  that  Harold  should  assassinate  Johnson, 
and  he  wanted  him,  Atzeroth,  to  back  him  up  and  give 


448  HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS. 

him  courage.  Booth  thought  that  Harold  had  more 
pluck  than  Atzeroth. 

He  alluded  to  the  meeting  at  the  restaurant  about  the 
middle  of  March.  He  said  Booth,  Harold,  Paj-ne, 
Arnold,  and  himself  were  present,  and  it  was  then  con- 
certed that  Mr.  Lincoln  should  be  captured  and  taken  to 
Richmond. 

They  heard  that  Lincoln  was  to  visit  a  camp  near 
"Washington,  and  the  plan  was  that  they  should  proceed 
there  and  capture  the  coach  and  horses  containing  Lincoln, 
and  run  him  through  Prince  George's  County  and  Old 
Fields  to  G.  B.  There  they  were  to  leave  the  coach  and 
horses  and  place  the  President  in  a  buggy  which  Harold 
would  have  on  hand,  and  thus  convey  him  to  a  boat  to 
be  in  readiness,  and  run  him  by  some  means  to  Rich- 
mond. He  denies  that  he  was  in  favor  of  assassinating 
Lincoln,  but  was  willing  to  assist  in  his  capture. 

He  stated,  however,  that  he  knew  Lincoln  was  to  be 
assassinated  about  half-past  eight  o'clock  on  the  evening 
of  the  occurrence,  but  was  afraid  to  make  it  known,  as  he 
feared  Booth  would  kill  him  if  he  did  so. 

He  said  that  slavery  caused  his  sympathies  to  be  with 
the  South.  He  had  heard  a  sermon  preached  which 
stated  that  a  curse  on  the  negro  race  had  turned  them 
black.  He  always  hated  the  negroes,  and  thought  they 
should  be  kept  in  ignorance. 

Booth  had  promised  him  that  if  their  plan  succeeded 
for  the  capture  of  Lincoln  they  should  all  be  rich  men, 
and  they  would  become  great.  The  prisoners  would  all 
be  exchanged,  and  the  independence  of  the  South  would 
be  recognized,  and  their  cause  be  triumphant.  He  had 
never  received  any  money  as  yet. 

The  crowd  increases.  Reporters  are  scribbling  indus- 
triously. A  suppressed  whisper  is  audible  all  over  the 
room  and  the  hall  as  the  hour  draws  nearer,  and  the 
preparations  begin  to  be  more  demonstrative. 

The  rumbling  sound  of  the  trap  as  it  falls  in  the  course 


HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS.  149 

of  the  experiments,  wliicli  are  being  made  to  test  it,  and 
to  prevent  any  unfortunate  accident  occurring  at  the 
critical  moment,  is  heard  through  the  windows,  and  all 
eyes  are  involuntarily  turned  in  that  direction,  for 
curiosity  is  excited  to  the  highest  pitch  to  view  the  ope- 
rations of  the  fatal  machiner^^  There  are  two  or  three 
pictorial  papers  represented.  One  calmly  makes  a  draw- 
ing of  the  scaffold  for  the  next  issue  of  his  paper,  and 
thus  the  hours  till  noon  passed  away. 

The  bustle  increases.  Officers  are  running  to  and  fro 
calling  for  orderlies  and  giving  orders.  General  Hartranft 
is  trying  to  answer  twenty  questions  at  once  from  as 
many  different  persons.  The  sentry  in  the  hall  is  becom- 
ing angry  because  the  crowd  will  keep  intruding  on  his 
beat,  when  suddenlv  a  buggy  at  the  door  announces  the 
arrival  of  General  Hancock. 

He  enters  the  room  hurriedly,  takes  General  Hartranft 
aside,  and  a  few  words  pass  between  them  in  a  low  tone, 
to  which  Hartranft  nods  acquiescence ;  then,  in  a  louder 
voice,  Hancock  says :  "  Get  ready,  general ;  I  want  to 
have  everything  put  in  readiness  as  soon  as  possible." 
This  was  the  signal  for  the  interviews  of  the  clergymen, 
relatives,  and  friends  of  the  prisoners  to  cease,  and  for  the 
doomed  to  prepare  for  execution. 

The  bustle  increases.  Mr.  Aiken  approaches  General 
Hancock,  and  a  few  minutes'  conversation  passes  between 
them.  Aiken's  countenance  changes  perceptibly  at  Gene- 
ral Hancock's  words.  The  reason  is  plain ;  there  is  no 
hope  for  Mrs.  Surratt.  The  habeas  corpus  movement, 
from  which  he  expected  so  much,  has  failed;  and  Aiken, 
in  a  voice  tremulous  with  emotion,  said  to  me,  "  Mrs. 
Surratt  will  be  hung." 

The  bright  hopes  he  had  cherished  had  all  vanished, 
and  the  dreadful  truth  stood  before  him  in  all  its  horror. 
Clampitt,  too,  till  General  Hancock  arrived,  indulged  the 
hope  that  the  habeas  corpus  would  effect  a  respite  for 
three  or  four  days. 
29 


4^  HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS. 

Three  or  four  of  Harold's  sisters,  all  in  one  chonis  of 
weeping,  come  through  the  prison  door  into  the  hall. 
They  had  left  their  brother  and  spoken  to  him  the  last 
words,  and  heard  his  voice  for  the  last  time. 

At  fifteen  minutes  after  one  o'clock  General  Hartranft 
blandly  informs  the  "  press  gang"  to  be  in  readiness  for 
ili3  prison  doors  to  be  opened,  when  they  can  pass  into 
the  prison  yard,  from  whence  a  good  view  of  the  proces- 
sion can  be  obtained  as  it  passes  by  to  the  scaffold.  About 
eleven  A.  M.  the  prison  yard  was  thrown  open  to  thoso 
having  passes,  and  about  fifty  entered.  The  first  object 
in  view  was  the  scaffold,  which  was  erected  at  the  north- 
east corner  of  tlie  Penitentiary  yard,  and  consisted  of  a 
simple  wooden  structure  of  very  primitive  appearance, 
faced  about  due  west.  The  platform  was  elevated  about 
twelve  feet  from  the  ground,  and  was  about  twenty  feet 
square.  Attached  to  the  main  platform  were  the  drops, 
&;c.,  two  in  number,  on  which  the  criminals  stood.  At 
the  moment  of  execution  these  drops  were  connected 
with  the  main  platform  by  means  of  large  hinges,  four  to 
each  drop. 

The  drops  were  supported  by  a  post  which  rested  on 
a  heavy  piece  of  timber  placed  on  the  ground,  and  so 
arranged  that  two  soldiers  stationed  at  the  rear  of  the 
scaffold  instantaneously  detached  the  two  supports  from 
their  positions  by  means  of  pressing  two  poles,  which 
occupied  a  horizontal  position,  the  action  of  which  dis- 
lodged the  props  of  the  scaffold  and  permitted  the  drops 
to  foil 

The  gallows  proper  was  divided  into  two  parts  by 
TT^eans  of  a  perpendicular  piece  of  timber,  resting  on  the 
platform  and  reaching  up  to  the  cross  beam  of  the  gallows. 
Two  ropes  hung  on  either  side  of  the  piece  of  timber 
mentioned.  They  were  wound  around  the  cross-beam, 
and  contained  large  knots  and  nooses  at  the  lower  end. 
The  platform  was  ascended  by  means  of  a  flight  of  steps, 
thirteen  in  number,  erected  at  the  rear  of  the  scaffold, 


HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS.  451 

and  guarded  on  either  side  by  a  railing,  whicli  also  ex- 
tended around  the  platform.  The  platform  was  sustained 
by  nine  heavy  uprights,  about  whieh  rose  the  two  heavy 
pieces  of  timber  which  supported  the  cross-beam  and 
constituted  the  gallows.  The  entire  platform  was  capable 
of  holding  conveniently  about  thirty  people,  and  was 
about  half  full  at  the  time  of  the  execution. 

The  executioners  were  all  fine  stalwart  specimens  of 
Union  soldiers,  and  did  their  work  well.  The  rope  was 
furnished  from  the  navy  yard,  and  was  one-and-a-half 
inches  in  circumference,  and  composed  of  twenty  strands. 

The  graves  were  dug  close  to  the  scaffold  and  next  to 
the  prison  wall.  They  were  four  in  number,  and  were 
about  three  feet  and  a  half  deep,  in  a  dry  clayey  soil,  and 
about  seven  feet  long  and  three  wide.  Four  ])ine  boxes, 
similar  to  those  used  for  packing  guns  in,  stood  betweea 
the  graves  and  the  scaft'old.  These  were  for  coffins,  both 
being  in  full  view  of  the  prisoners  as  they  emerged  from 
their  cells,  and  before  them  until  they  commenced  the 
dreadful  ascent  of  those  thirteen  steps. 

About  a  thousand  soldiers  were  in  the  yard  and  upon 
the  high  wall  around  it,  which  is  wide  enough  for  sentries 
to  patrol  it.  The  sun's  rays  made  it  very  oppressive,  and 
the  walls  kept  off  the  little  breeze  that  was  stirring. 
There  was  no  shade,  and  men  huddled  to2:ether  alongj 
the  walls  and  around  the  pump  to  discuss  with  one 
another  the  prospect  of  a  reprieve  or  delay  for  Mrs. 
Surratt.  But  few  hoped  for  it,  though  some  were  in- 
duced by  Mrs.  Surratt's  counsel  to  believe  she  would  not 
be  hung  to-day.  When  one  of  them  came  out  and  saw 
the  four  ropes  hanging  from  the  beam,  he  exclaimed  to 
one  of  the  soldiers,  "  My  God,  they  are  not  going  to  hang 
all  four,  are  they?" 

But  there  are  times  when  it  is  mercy  to  hang  criminals, 
and  that  time  was  drawing  nigh,  it  seemed,  for  those  who 
have  been  used  for  years  to  apologizing  for  the  liebellion, 
and  its  damning  acts,  to  be  brought  to  believe  that  any 


453  HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS. 

crime  is  to  be  punished.  Of  sucli  material  were  tlie 
prisoners'  counsel. 

The  drops,  at  eleven-tliirty,  are  tried  witli  three  hun- 
dred pound  weights  upon  them,  to  see  if  they  will  work. 
One  falls  all  riglit ;  one  hangs  part  way  down,  and  the 
hatchet  and  saw  were  brought  into  play.  The  next  time 
they  were  all  right.  The  rattle  echoes  around  the  walls, 
it  reaches  the  prisoners'  cells  close  by,  and  penetrates 
their  inmost  recesses.  All  is  quiet  in  the  yard  save  the 
scuffle  of  the  military,  and  the  passing  to  and  fro  of  a 
few  civilians. 

At  twelve-forty  four  arm  chairs  are  brought  out  and 
placed  upon  the  scaffold,  and  the  moving  around  of 
General  Hartranft  indicates  the  drawing  near  of  the  time. 
The  newspaper  correspondents  and  reporters  are  admitted 
to  a  position  about  thirty  feet  from  the  gallows,  and  about 
one  o'clock  and  ten  minutes,  the  heavy  door  in  front  of 
the  cells  is  swung  npon  its  hinges  for  the  hundredth  time 
within  an  hour,  and  a  few  reporters,  with  Gen.  Hancock, 
pass  in  and  through  to  the  yard,  and  the  big  door  closes 
with  a  slam  behind  them. "'  All  take  positions  to  get  a 
good  view.  Gen.  Hancock  for  the  last  time  takes  a 
survey  of  the  preparations,  and  being  satisfied  that 
everything  is  ready,  he  re-enters  the  prison  building, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  the  solemn  procession  marched 
down  the  steps  of  the  back  door  and  into  the  yard. 

Mrs.  Surratt  cast  her  eyes  upward  upon  the  scaffold 
for  a  few  moments  with  a  look  of  curiosity,  combined 
with  dread.  One  glimpse,  and  her  eyes  fell  to  the  ground, 
and  she  walked  along  mechanically,  her  hei\d  drooi)ing, 
and  if  she  had  not  been  supported  would  have  fallen. 

She  ascended  the  scafibld,  and  was  led  to  an  arm-chair, 
in  which  she  was  seated.  An  umbrella  was  held  over 
her  by  the  two  holy  fathers,  to  protect  her  from  the  sun, 
whose  rays  shot  down  like  the  blasts  from  a  fiery  furnace. 
She  was  attired  in  a  black  bombazine  dress,  black  alpaca 
bonnet,  with  black  veil,  which  she  wore  over  her  fac© 


HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS.  453 

iili  she  was  seated  on  tlie  chair.  During  the  readhig  of 
the  order  for  the  execution  by  General  Ilartranl't,  the 
priests  held  a  small  crucifix  before  her,  which  she  kissed 
fervently  several  times. 

Sue  lirst  looked  around  at  the  scene  before  her,  then 
closed  her  eyes  and  seemed  engaged  in  silent  prayer. 
The  reading  and  the  announcement  of  the  clergymen  in 
behalf  of  tbe  other  prisoners  having  been  made,  Colonel 
McCall,  assisted  by  the  other  officers,  proceeded  to  remove 
her  bonnet,  pinion  her  elbows,  and  tie  strips  of  cotton 
stuff  around  ner  dress  below  the  knees.  This  done,  the 
rope  was  placed  around  her  neck  and  her  face  covered 
with  a  white  cap  reaching  down  to  the  shoulders. 

When  they  were  pinioning  her  arms  she  turned  her 
head  and  mads  some  remarks  to  the  officers  in  a  low 
tone,  which  could  not  be  heard.  It  appeared  they  had 
tied  her  elbows  too  tight,  for  they  slackened  the  bandage 
slightly,  and  then  awaited  the  final  order.  All  the 
prisoners  were  prepared  thus  at  the  same  time,  and  the 
preparations  of  each  were  completed  at  about  the  same 
moment,  so  that  when  Mrs.  Surratt  was  thus  pinioned  she 
stood  scarcely  ten  seconds,  supported  by  those  standing 
near  her,  when  General  Ilartranft  gave  the  signal,  by 
clapping  his  hands  twice  for  both  drops  to  fall,  and  as 
soon  as  the  second  and  last  signal  was  given  both  fell, 
and  Mrs.  Surratt,  with  a  jerk,  fell  to  the  full  length  of  the 
rope.  She  was  leaning  over  when  the  drop  fell,  and  this 
gave  a  swinging  motion  to  her  body,  which  lasted  several 
minutes  before  it  assumed  a  perpendicular  position.  Her 
death  Avas  instantaneous;  she  died  without  a  struggle. 
The  only  muscular  movement  discernible  was  a  slight 
contraction  of  the  left  arm,  which  she  seemed  to  try  to 
disengage  from  behind  her  as  the  drop  fell. 

After  being  suspended  thirty  minutes,  she  Avas  cut 
down  and  placed  in  a  square  wooden  box  or  coffin,  in  the 
clothes  in  which  she  died,  and  was  interred  in  the  prison 
yard.     The  rope  mada  a  clean  cut  around  her  neck  fully 


454  HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATOES. 

an  inch  in  diameter,  wliicli  was  black  and  discolored  with 
braised  blood.  The  cap  was  not  taken  oft'  ber  face,  and 
she  was  laid  in  the  coffin  with  it  on,  and  thus  has  passed 
away  Ironi  the  face  of  the  earth  Mary  E.  Surratt.  Her 
body,  it  is  understood,  will  be  given  to  her  family  for 
burial. 

Payne  died  as  he  has  lived,  at  least  as  he  has  done  since 
his  arrest,  bold,  calm,  and  thoroughly  composed.  The 
only  tremor  exhibited  by  this  extraordinary  man  during 
the  terrible  ordeal  of  the  execution  was  an  involuntary 
vibration  of  the  muscles  of  his  legs  after  the  fatal  drop 
fell.  He  was  next  in  order  to  Mrs.  Surratt  in  the  pro- 
cession of  the  criminals  from  their  cells  to  the  place  of 
execution. 

Pie  was  supported  on  one  side  by  his  spiritual  adviser 
and  on  the  other  by  a  soldier,  although  he  needed  no  such 
assistance,  for  he  walked  erect  and  upright  and  retained 
the  peculiar  piercing  expression  of  the  eye  that  has  ever 
characterized  him.  He  was  dressed  in  a  blue  flannel 
shirt  and  pants  of  the  same  material.  His  brawny  neck 
was  entirely  exposed,  and  he  wore  a  new  straw  hat.  He 
ascended  the  steps  leading  to  the  scaffold  with  the  greatest 
ease,  and  took  his  seat  on  the  drop  with  as  much  sang 
froid  as  though  he  was  sitting  down  to  dinner. 

Once  or  twice  he  addressed  a  few  words  in  an  under- 
tone to  persons  close  by  him,  and  occasionally  glanced  at 
the  array  of  soldiers  and  civilians  spread  out  before  him. 
A  puft'  of  wind  blew  off  his  hat,  and  he  instantly  turned 
around  to  see  where  it  went  to.  When  it  was  recovered 
and  handed  to  him,  he  intimated  by  gesturing  that  he 
no  longer  required  it,  and  it  was  laid  aside. 

During  the  reading  of  the  sentence  by  General  Hart- 
ranft,  just  previous  to  the  execution,  he  calmly  listened, 
and  once  or  twice  glanced  upwards  at  the  gallows,  as  if 
inspecting  its  construction.  He  submitted  to  the  process 
of  binding  his  limbs  very  quietly,  and  watched  the  opera- 
tion with  attention. 


HANGING  OP  THE  CONSPIRATORS.  455 

Ilis  spiritual  adviser,  Rev.  Dr.  Gillette,  advanced,  a 
few  minutes  previous  to  the  execution,  and  made  some 
remarks  in  Payne's  belialf.  He  thanked  the  different 
officials  for  the  attention  and  kindness  bestowed  on 
Payne,  and  exhorted  the  criminal  in  a  few  impassioned 
words  to  give  his  entire  thoughts  to  his  future  state. 
Payne  stood  immovable  as  a  statue  when  the  drop  felli 
Although  next  to  Harold,  who  died  the  hardest,  he  ex- 
hibited more  bodily  contortions  than  the  others  while 
suspended.  While  the  noose  was  being  adjusted  to  his 
neck  Payne  raised  his  head  and  evidently  desired  to 
assist  the  executioner  in  that  delicate  operation. 

Probabl}-^  no  one  of  the  criminals  felt  as  great  a  dread 
of  the  terrible  ordeal  through  which  they  were  to  pass 
as  young  Harold.  From  the  time  he  left  bis  cell  until 
his  soul  was  sent  into  the  presence  of  the  Almighty,  he 
exhibited  the  greatest  emotion,  and  seemed  to  thoroughly 
realize  his  wretched  condition.  His  face  wore  an  inde- 
finable expression  of  anguish,  and  at  times  he  trembled 
violently.  He  seemed  to  desire  to  engage  in  conversa- 
tion with  those  around  him  while  sitting  in  the  chair 
awaiting  execution,  and  his  spiritual  adviser,  Rev.  Mr. 
Old,  was  assiduous  in  his  attentions  to  the  wretched 
man. 

Harold  was  dressed  in  a  black  cloth  coat  and  light 
pants,  and  wore  a  white  shirt  without  any  collar;  he 
wore  also  a  black  slouch  hat,  which  he  retained  on  his 
head  until  it  was  remoyed  to  make  room  for  the  white 
cap.  At  times  he  looked  wildly  around,  and  his  face  had 
a  haggard,  anxious,  inquiring  expression.  When  the 
drop  fell  he  exhibited  more  tenacity  of  life  than  any  of 
the  others,  and  he  endeavored  several  times  to  draw  him- 
self up  as  if  fur  the  purpose  of  relieving  himself  from  th© 
rope  by  which  he  was  suspended. 

Atzeroth  ascended  the  steps  of  the  scaffold  without 
difficulty,  and  took  his  seat  at  the  south  end  of  the  drop 
without   exhibiting  any  particular  emotion.      He  wa» 


i56  HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIBATORS. 

dressed  in  a  dark  gray  coat  and  pants  and  black  vest 
and  white  linen  shirt  without  any  collar ;  on  his  feet  he 
wore  a  pair  of  woollen  slippers  and  socks.  He  sat  in 
Buch  a  position  that  he  could  see  the  profiles  of  his  fellow 
prisoners,  and  he  had  his  hands  pinioned  behind  him. 
He  wore  no  hat,  had  a  white  handkerchief  placed  over 
his  head  with  a  tuft  of  hair  protruding  from  it  and 
spreading  over  his  forehead. 

Directly  behind  him  stood  his  spiritual  adviser,  who 
held  an  umbrella  over  him  to  keep  oft  the  burning  rays 
of  the  sun.  During  the  reading  of  the  sentence  by 
General  Hartranft  he  kept  perfectly  quiet,  but  his  face 
wore  an  expression  of  unutterable  woe,  and  he  listened 
attentively.  He  wore  a  thin  moustache  and  small  goatee, 
and  his  face  was  pale  and  sallow.  Once  and  once  only 
he  glanced  around  at  the  assembled  throng,  and  occa- 
sionally muttered  incoherent  sentences,  but  he  talked, 
•while  on  the  scaffold,  to  no  one  immediately  around  him. 

Just  before  his  execution  his  spiritual  adviser,  Mr. 
Butler,  advanced  and  stated  that  Atzeroth  desired  to 
return  his  sincere  thanks  to  General  Hartranft  and  the 
other  officials  for  their  many  acts  of  kindness  extended 
towards  him.  He  then  called  on  God  to  forgive  George 
A.  Atzeroth  for  his  many  sins,  and,  turning  to  Atzeroth, 
reminded  him  that  while  the  wages  of  sin  were  death, 
that  whomsoever  placed  their  hope  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  were  not  forgotten.  He  hoped  that  God  would 
grant  him  a  full  and  free  forgiveness,  and  ended  by  say- 
ing, "  May  the  Lord  God  have  mercy  on  you  and  grant 
you  his  peace." 

The  handkerchief  was  then  taken  from  his  head,  and 
he  stood  up,  facing  the  assembled  audience,  directly 
alongside  of  the  instrument  of  his  death.  His  kneea 
slightly  trembled,  and  his  legs  were  bent  forward.  He 
stood  for  a  few  moments  the  very  embodiment  of  wretched- 
ness, and  then  spoke  a  few  words  in  an  undertone  to 
General  Hartranft,  after  which  he  shook  hands  with  hia 


HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS.  457 

spiritual  adviser  and  a  few  others  near  him ;  while  he 
was  being  secured  with  bands  tied  around  his  legs  and 
arms  he  kept  muttering  to  himself  as  if  engaged  in  silent 
prayer. 

Suddenly  he  broke  forth  with  the  words,  "Gentlemen, 
beware  who  you — "  and  then  stopped  as  if  with  emotion; 
as  the  white  cap  was  being  placed  over  his  head,  he  said, 
•''Good-bye,  gentlemen;  may  we  all  meet  in  the  other 
world.  God  take  me  now."  He  muttered  somethino- 
loud  enough  for  them  close  by  him  to  hear,  just  as  the 
drop  fell,  evidently  not  anticipating  such  an  event  at 
that  moment.  He  died  without  apparent  pain,  and  his 
neck  must  have  been  instantly  broken. 

After  hanging  a  few  seconds  his  stomach  heaved  con- 
siderably, and  subsequently  his  legs  quivered  a  little. 
His  death  appeared  to  be  the  easiest  of  anv  of  the 
criminals,  with  the  exception  of  Mrs.  Surratt,  who  did 
not  apparently  suffer  at  all.  After  hanging  half  an 
hour,  Atzeroth's  body  was  taken  down,  it  being  the  first 
one  lowered,  and  an  examination  made  by  Surgeons  Otis, 
Woodward,  and  Porter. 

About  half-past  eight  o'clock  this  morning.  Miss  Surratt, 
accompanied  by  a  female  friend,  again  visited  the  White 
House,  having  been  there  last  evening  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  an  interview  with  the  President.  President 
Johnson  having  given  orders  that  he  would  receive  no 
one  to-day,  the  door-keeper  stopped  Miss  Surratt  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps  leading  up  to  the  President's  office,  aud 
would  not  permit  her  to  proceed  further.  She  then  asked 
permission  to  see  General  Mussey,  the  President's  Military- 
Secretary,  who  promptly  answered  the  summons,  and 
came  down  stairs  where  Miss  Surratt  was  standing. 

As  soon  as  the  General  made  his  appearance,  Miss 
Surratt  threw  herself  upon  her  knees  before  him,  catchin» 
him  by  the  coat,  with  loud  sobs  and  streaming  eves,  im- 
plored him  to  assist  her  in  obtaining  a  hearing  with  the 
President. 


<58  HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATOM. 

General  Musse}^,  in  as  tender  a  manner  as  possible,  in- 
formed Miss  Surratt  tbat  he  could  not  comply  with  her 
request,  as  President  Johnson's  orders  were  imperative, 
and  he  would  receive  no  one. 

Upon  General  Mussey's  returning  to  his  office,  Misa 
Surratt  threw  herself  upon  the  stair  steps,  where  she 
remained  a  considerable  length  of  time,  sobbing  aloud  in 
the  greatest  anguish,  protesting  her  mother's  innocence, 
and  imploring  every  one  who  came  near  her  to  intercede 
in  her  mother's  behalf.  While  thus  weeping  she  declared 
her  mother  was  too  good  and  kind  to  be  guilty  of  the 
enormous  crime  of  which  she  was  convicted,  and  asserted 
that  if  her  mother  was  put  to  death  she  wished  to  die 
also. 

The  scene  was  heart-rending,  and  many  of  those  who 
witnessed  it,  including  a  number  of  hardy  soldiers,  were 
moved  to  tears.  Miss  Surratt  having  become  quiet  was 
finally  persuaded  to  take  a  seat  in  the  East  Eoom,  and 
here  she  remained  for  several  hours,  jumping  up  from 
her  seat  each  time  the  front  door  of  the  mansion  was 
opened,  evidently  in  hopes  of  seeing  some  one  enter  who 
could  be  of  service  to  her  in  obtaining  the  desired  inter- 
view with  the  President,  or  that  they  weije  the  bearers  of 
good  news  to  her. 

Two  of  Harold's  sisters,  dressed  in  full  mourning  and 
heavily  veiled,  made  their  appearance  at  the  White  House 
shortly  after  Miss  Surratt,  for  the  purpose  of  interceding 
with  the  President  in  behalf  of  their  brother.  Failing  to 
see  the  President,  they  addressed  a  note  to  Mrs.  Johnson, 
and  expressed  a  hope  that  she  would  not  turn  a  deaf  ear 
to  their  pleadings.  Mrs.  Johnson  being  quite  sick,  it  was 
thought  expedient  by  the  nshers  not  to  deliver  the  note, 
when,  as  a  last  expedient,  the  ladies  asked  permission  to 
forward  a  note  to  Mrs.  Patterson,  the  President's  daughter, 
which  privilege  was  not  granted,  as  Mrs.  Patterson  was 
also  quite  indisposed. 

Payne,  during  the   night,  slept  well  for  about  thre« 


HANGING  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS.  459 

hours,  the  other  portion  of  the  night  being  spent  in  con- 
versation with  Rev.  Dr.  Gillette,  of  the  First  Baptist 
Church,  who  oftered  his  services  as  soon  as  he  was 
inibrraed  of  the  sentence.  Pa^'ne,  without  showing  any 
particular  emotion,  paid  close  attention  to  the  advice  of 
Dr.  Gillette.  Up  to  ten  o'clock  this  morning,  no  relations 
or  friends  had  been  to  see  Payne. 

Atzerothi  was  very  nervous  throughout  the  night,  and 
did  not  sleep,  although  he  made  several  attempts.  His 
brother  was  to  see  him  yesterday  afternoon,  and  again 
this  morning.  His  aged  mother,  who  arrived  during  the 
night,  was  also  present.  The  meeting  of  the  condemned 
man  and  his  mother  was  very  affecting,  and  moved  some 
of  the  officers  of  the  prison,  who  have  become  used  to 
trying  scenes,  to  tears. 

Rev.  Dr.  Butler,  of  the  Lutheran  Church,  was  sent  for 
last  night,  and  has  been  all  night  ministering  to  Atzeroth. 
Harold  was  visited  yesterday  by  Rev.  Mr.  Olds,  of  Christ 
Episcopal  Church,  and  five  of  bis  sisters,  and  this  morn- 
ing the  minister  and  the  entire  family  of  seven  sisters 
were  present  with  him.  Harold  slept  very  well  several 
hours  during  the  night. 

Miss  Surratt  was  with  her  mother  several  hours  last 
night,  as  also  Rev.  Fathers  Wiget  and  Walter,  and  Mr. 
Brophy,  who  were  also  present  this  morning.  She  slept 
very  little,  if  any,  and  required  considerable  attention, 
suffering  with  cramps  and  pains  the  entire  night,  caused 
by  her  nervousness.  The  breakfast  was  sent  to  the 
prisoners  at  the  usual  hour  this  morning,  but  none  eat, 
excepting  Payne,  who  ate  hea^til3^ 

About  three  thousand  troops  were  employed  in  guard- 
ing the  building  and  its  surroundings. 

The  execution  ground  was  a  large  square  inclosure, 
called  the  Old  Penitentiary  jail  yard,  directly  south  of 
the  Old  Penitentiary  building.  It  comprises  probably 
three  acres  of  ground,  surrounded  by  a  brick  wall,  about 
twenty  feet  in  height. 


460  HAN'OIXO  OF  THE  CONSPIRATORS, 

This  wall  is  capped  with  white  stone  and  surmounted 
■with  iron  stakes  and  ropes,  to  prevent  the  guard  from 
falling  off  while  patrolling  the  tops  of  the  wall.  Tlie 
Sixth  Regiment  Veteran  Volunteers  were  formed  on  the 
summit  of  the  wall  during  the  execution,  and  they  pre- 
sented quite  a  picturesque  appearance  in  their  elevated 
position. 

The  gallows  occupied  a  position  in  the  angle  of  the 
inclosare  formed  by  the  east  wall  and  the  Penitentiary 
building  on  the  north.  The  First  Eegiment  Veteran 
Volunteers  were  posted  around  the  gallows,  two  sides 
being  formed  by  the  east  wall  and  the  Penitentiary 
building. 

The  spectators,  about  two  hundred  in  number,  were 
congregated  directly  in  front  of  the  gallows,  the  soldiers 
forming  a  barrier  between  them  and  the  place  of  execu- 
tion. The  criminals  were  led  to  the  scaffold  from  a  small 
door  about  one  hundred  feet  from  the  place  of  execution. 
But  for  a  small  projection  that  runs  south  of  the  Peni- 
tentiary building,  the  gallows  would  be  in  plain  view  of 
the  prisoners'  cells,  which  are  all  on  the  first  floor  of  the 
building. 

It  was  a  noticeable  incident  of  the  execution  that 
scarcely  any  Government  officials  or  citizens  were  present, 
the  spectators  being  nearly  all  connected  Avith  the  trial 
in  some  capacity,  or  else  representatives  of  the  press. 

By  permission  of  the  authorities,  the  daughter  of  Mrs. 
Surratt  passed  the  night  previous  to  the  execution  with 
her  mother,  in  her  cell.  The  entire  interview  was  of  a 
very  affecting  character.  The  daughter  remained  with 
her  mother  until  a  short  time  before  the  execution,  and 
when  the  time  came  for  separation  the  screams  of  anguish 
that  burst  from  the  poor  girl  could  be  distinctly  heard 
all  over  the  execution  ground. 

During  the  morning  the  daughter  proceeded  to  the 
Metropolitan  Hotel,  and  sought  an  interview  with  Gene- 
ral Ilancock.     Finding  him,  she  implored  him  in  pitiable 


HANGING  OP  THE  CONSPIRATORS.  4Gl 

accents  to  get  a  reprieve  for  her  mother.  The  general, 
of  course,  had  no  power  to  grant  or  obtain  such  a  favor, 
and  so  informed  the  distressed  girl  in  as  gentle  a  manner 
as  possible. 

General  Hancock,  with  the  kindness  that  always 
characterizes  his  actions  apart  from  the  stern  duties  of 
his  noble  profe'ssion,  did  his  best  to  assuage  the  mental 
anguish  of  the  grief-stricken  girl. 

The  alleged  important  after-discovered  testimonj'-  which 
Aiken,  counsel  for  Mrs,  Surratt,  stated  would  prove  her 
innocence,  was  submitted  to  Judge  Advocate-General 
Holt,  and,  after  a  careful  examination,  he  failed  to 
discover  anything  in  it  having  a  bearing  on  the  case. 
This  was  communicated  to  the  President,  and  doubtless 
induced  him  to  decline  to  interfere  in  the  execution  of 
Mrs.  Surratt. 

The  residence  of  Mrs.  Surratt,  on  H  street,  north,  near 
Sixth,  remained  closed  after  the  announcement  of  her 
fate  had  become  known. 

In  the  evening  but  a  single  dim  light  shone  froni  one 
of  the  rooms,  while  within  the  house  all  was  as  quiet  as 
death  up  to  about  eight  o'clock,  at  which  hour  Miss 
Annie  E.  Surratt,  who  had  been  in  constant  attendance 
upon  her  mother,  drove  up  to  the  door  in  a  hack,  accom- 
panied by  a  gentleman. 

She  appeared  to  be  perfectly  crushed  with  grief,  and 
as  she  alighted  from  the  carriage  some  ladies  standing 
near  were  moved  to  tears  of  sympathy  with  the  unfortu- 
nate girl  whose  every  look  and  action  betrayed  her 
anguish. 

Miss  Surratt,  after  gaining  admittance  to  the  house, 
fainted  several  times,  causing  great  bustle  and  excitement 
among  the  inmates,  who  were  untiring  in  tlieir  effb'-ts  to 
console  the  almost  heart-broken  young  lady. 

From  early  in  the  evening  until  a  late  hour  at  night, 
hundreds  of  persons,  old  and  young,  male  and  female, 
visited  the  vicinity  of  Mrs,  Surratt's  residence,  stopping 


-462  HOW  A  SUBSTITUTE  BROKER  WAS  TAKEN  IN. 

upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  glancing  over  witli 
anxious  and  inquiring  eves  rpon  the  bouse  in  which  the 
conspirators  met,  commenting  upon  the  fate  of  the  doomed 
woman,  and  the  circumstances  connected  therewith. 

During  the  evening  uot  less  than  live  hundred  per- 
sons visited  the  spot. 


HOW  A  SUBSTITUTE  BEOEEE  WAS  TAKEN  DT. 

If  it's  bragging,  sir,  here  goes  for  a  brag  I  I'm  going 
to  put  it  in  print. 

I'm  a  plain  man  in  most  respects,  but  in  one  respect 
I  am  a  little  peculiar.  In  respect  to  kecjiing  sober  under 
circumstances  that  make  other  men  drunk,  I  never  met 
any  man  like  me.  The  vicious  monarch  the  Temperance 
Society  is  opposed  to  has  no  terrors  for  John  Waggoner. 
I  presume  you  may  have  heard  of  that  fire-eating 
Southern  chap — what  ^uas  his  name? — who  used  to  boast 
in  Washington  before  the  war  that  he  was  "  born  insensi- 
ble to  fear."  He  must  have  been  an  awful  booby,  if  he 
wasn't  an  awful  liar — that's  my  opinion  of  him.  Whether 
I  was  "born  insensible"  to  fear  of  "King  Alchy,  the 
sarpent,"  I  don't  just  remember.  At  any  rate  it's  a  fact 
that  liquor  can't  fuddle  me  a  bit — not  a  bit.  But,  bless 
your  heart,  that  1  never  thought  a  bragging  matter.  I've 
got  a  swill-tub  down  at  the  farm  that  will  hold  more 
liquor  than  any  man  /ever  saw. 

When  I  was  in  the  army  I  was  a  teetotaler  on  princi- 
ple. Every  man  has  his  own  bit  of  influence  in  this 
v.'orld,  and  I  never  wanted  any  comrade  of  mine  to  have 
it  to  say  that  he  drank  because  John  Waggoner  drank. 
I  don't  believe  whiskey  makes  a  soldier  brave,  even 
though  it  may  make  him  reckless.  A  good  soldier  takes 
care  of  himself — that's  my  experience.  He  don't  go  to 
war  to  be  killed  ;  he  goes  to  fight.  Give  the  enemy  fits, 
and  look  out  for  Number  One  all  the  same,  is  my  motto. 


HOW  A  SUBSTITUTE  BROKER  WAS  TAKEN  IN,      4^3 

If  I  don't  hate  a  mean  man  T  am  not  acquainted  with 
mj  own  sentiments.  Since  I  was  a  boy  it  has  always 
been  a  source  of  pleasure  to  me  to  kick  a  mean  man — 
morally  or  physically — whenever  the  good  Lord  sent  me 
a  favorable  opportunity.  I've  seen  many  mean  men  in 
my  day.  I  have  seen  a  man  who  was  so  mean  that  he 
abused  his  wife  till  she  got  a  divorce  from  him,  and  then 
tried  to  get  her  to  be  his  mistress.  But  in  my  humble 
opinion — I've  been  a  soldier,  sir,  and  faced  my  country's 
foes  under  fire — there's  no  meaner  style  of  man  living 
than  the  fellow  who  tries  to  make  dirty  money  by  dealing 
in  substitutes. 

I  read  the  papers  pretty  carefully,  and  don't  skip  the 
advertisements.  I  have  got  a  deal  of  good  out  of  adver- 
tisements at  different  times.  Last  week  I  read  an  adver- 
tisement of  a  substitute-broker  named  Miggs.  in  the  city. 
Plenty  others  like  him  there  were,  to  be  sure;  but  my 
way  of  dealing  with  a  swindle  is  to  pick  out  one  of  the 
swindlers  and  give  him  a  handling.  I  picked  out  Miggs, 
and  went  to  town  to  see  what  the  prospect  might  be  for 
handling  him. 

The  first  man  I  met  was  Jo  Smith,  and  1  told  him  I'd 
got  a  little  job  to  do,  and  wanted  his  help.     Jo  knows  me. 

"  All  right,"  says  he.     "  What  is  it,  John  ?" 

"Do  you  know  a  chap  named  Miggs?" 

"  Substitute  swindler  ?"  says  he. 

"Yes.     C.E.  Miggs." 

"Guess  I  do.  He's  been  trying  to  get  me  to  sell  myself 
to  him  cheap." 

"For  a  sub?" 

"  Yes." 

"  You  don't  say.  Come,  this  is  just  the  talk !  Find 
me  Miggs,  will  you?     I'm  a  substitute." 

"Pooh!  You  ain't  going  to  let  any  of  these  dirty 
sharks  gobble  you  up  and  make  a  hundred  dollars  out 
of  you.     Are  you,  John  ?" 

"  He  won't  make  more  than  that  out  of  me,  any  hovr. 


464     HOW  A  SUBSTITUTE  BROKER  WAS  TAKEN  IV. 

All  I  ask  of  you  is  to  set  him  on.  Tell  him  to  get  me 
drunk,  and  I'm  his  man.     I  will  be." 

"Oh,  I  see!  John,  you're  a  good  egg.  Here's  my 
hand." 

He  went  straight  off,  and  I  waited  on  the  corner  for 
him.  Pretty  soon  he  came  back  with  Miggs — a  lean  chap 
with  sore  eyes  and  a  treble  voice.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
slnny  broadcloth  suit,  and  wore  a  blue  vest  with  regulation 
buttons.  Our  buttons!  I  could  have  knocked  him  down 
for  that. 

"  Mr.  Miggs,"  said  Joe,  "  let  me  introduce  my  friend 
John  Waggoner,  from  the  country.  I  want  you  to  show 
him  the  elephant,  Miggs.  Mr.  Miggs  knows  the  city  like 
a  book,  John.  He'll  take  care  of  you.  Come  'round  to 
my  house  to-morrow  and  I'll  be  more  at  leisure  than  I 
am  to-day." 

Jo  went  off,  and  left  Miggs  and  me  standing  on  the 
corner.  He  looked  at  me  as  much  as  to  say,  "  You're 
mj  game,  country  I"  Oh,  am  I?  thought  I;  but  I  looked 
peaceful. 

"Smith's  a  good  fellow,  ain't  he?"  piped  Miggs. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  he's  well  enough ;  but  he's  too  darned 
partic'lar  for  me.  He  won't  never  drink  with  a  feller, 
and  if  there's  anything  I  like,  it  ain't  tea — ha!  ha!  ha!" 

"He!  he!  he!"  squeaked  the  sore-eyed  substituter, 
"that's  a  good  one.  Eh!  But,  I  say — let's  have  some- 
thing." 

Broker  had  got  his  cue  at  once.  He  was  going  to  get 
me  drunk  as  fast  as  possible.  No  doubt  his  time  was 
precious. 

We  drank.  Broker  took  a  very  light  nip,  I  noticed. 
I  let  him  do  it — that  time. 

I  warmed  up  with  my  liquor  wonderful  quick,  you 
understand ;  and  as  we  went  right  off  into  another  saloon 
and  drank  again,  I  took  Miggs's  glass  when  he  had 
dribbled  a  little  whiskey  into  it,  and  said  I : — 

"Look  'ere!     That  ain't  the  way  you  drink  with  your 


HOW  A  SUBSTITUTE  BROKER  WAS  TAKEN  IN.  466 

friends,  is  it,  Miggs,  old  cbap  ?  Here,  let  me  fill  her  up 
for  you." 

And  I  filled  her  up,  and  watched  Miggs  drink  her, 
too.  He  tried  to  laugh  it  oft)  but  he  made  a  wry  face 
over  her. 

""What  do  you  think  about  the  war,  Mr.  "Waggoner?" 
said  Miggs  after  that.  He  was  for  getting  on  to  busi- 
ness. 

"  War's  a  big  thing  on  ice,"  said  I.  "  Big  thing ! 
Come  up  and  take  something." 

W^e  took  something.  I  poured  out  for  Miggs,  who 
began  to  eye  me  anxiously.     To  encourage  him,  I  said : 

"  Miggs — hie — old  boy,  I  b'lieve  I  can  lick  Jeff  Davis 
or  any  other  man.     I  b'lieve  you  an'  I  could,  anyhow." 

"  Of  course  you  could,"  said  Miggs,  who  began  to  feel 
perceptibly  better.  "I  tell  you  what,  "Waggoner,  I'va 
half  a  notion  to  enlist  myself" 

"Bully  f'3'oul"  said  I.     "Come  up  and  drink." 

Miggs  made  a  wry  face  again  as  I  poured  out  his  gin, 
but  he  had  to  drink  it.  After  which  he  gre,w  decidedly 
unsteady  on  his  legs. 

"Say,  Miggs — hie — iggs,"  said  I,  "if  you'll  'list  for  a 
major-general,  I'll  'list  for  a — hie — high  private.  What 
say?" 

"  Do  it !"  said  Miggs,  and  he  hiccoughed  in  earnest. 
"  Do  it !  Recruiting  ofi&ce  right  'cross  way,  here.  Come 
over !" 

"  Let's  drink,  first,"  said  I ;  and  that  one  did  the  business. 
Miggs  was  as  drunk  as  a  fool.  I  took  liim  over  to  the 
recruiting  of&ce  and  enlisted  him  in  Uncle  Abraham's 
army. 

I  can  testify  that  there  is  one  mighty  mean  man  wear- 
ing the  army  blue,  and  that  man  is  John  "Waggoner's 
recruit. 

30 


466     HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UNIONISTS  HUNG  A  GUERRILLA. 


HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UlTIONISTS  mTSQt  A  GT7EEEILLA. 

My  name  is  Paul  Henderson ;  my  father's  name  was 
John  Henderson.  At  the  beginning  of  the  great  rebel- 
lion, we  were  living  upon  adjoining  plantations  in  the 
valley  of  Flint  Eiver,  in  Madison  County,  Alabama. 

"We  were  wealthy  in  lands,  stock,  and  negroes.  "We 
never  knew  what  it  was  to  desire  a  second  time,  for  our 
wants  were  always  supplied  as  soon  as  known. 

Our  plantation  was  nestled  away  in  the  mountains, 
which  rose  in  magnificent  grandeur  on  every  hand.  W^e 
loved  our  home  in  the  valley,  and  we  loved  the  blue 
mountains  which  sheltered  us  from  every  storm.  W^e 
loved  the  bright  river  that  rolled  before  our  home,  and 
the  great  forest  trees  that  sheltered  us  from  the  sun  ;  and 
Ave  loved  the  pretty  birds  that  warbled  in  their  shadowy 
brandies. 

Sue'.i  was  the  state  of  my  affliirs  ofily  four  short  years 
ago.  And  now,  that  I  stand  before  you  alone  in  the 
world,  shorn  of  my  wealth — lands,  slaves,  stock,  crops, 
monev — all — by  the  fanaticism  of  secession ;  robbed  of 
my  kind  parents,  my  darling  child,  and  angel  wife,  by 
the  ruthless  hand  of  death,  I  can  scarcely  realize  that  I 
am  the  same  man;  the  Paul  Henderson  of  four  years 
ago.  Alas !  it  isi  only  too  true.  All,  all  this  is  the  work 
of  the  arch  fiend  of  disunion.  My  soul  sickens  as  I  con- 
template the  past,  and  I  would  willingly  veil  it  forever 
from  the  world. 

I  resisted  the  whirlwind  of  secession  until  the  last 
moment,  and,  thereb}',  became  a  marked  man.  A  band 
of  cavalry  was  sent  to  force  me  into  the  rebel  service,  and 
lo  avoid  raising  my  hand  against  the  old  flag,  I  fled  in 
company  with  others  to  the  mountains,  and  there 
occurred  the  incidents  I  am  now  relating. 

Our  party  consisted  of  James  Hodges,  Henry  Glenn, 
Jacob  Thompson,  Elwood  Butler,  and  myself. 


HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UNIONISTS  HUNG  A  GUERRILLA.     46T 

One  day  we  were  at  our  old  hiding-place  at  the  cave, 
lounging  about  and  discussing  the  various  rumors  of  the 
day,  when  we  were  suddenly  startled  by  the  sound  of 
horses'  feet  running  on  top  of  the  mountain  above  us; 
our  first  impulse  was  to  lay  quiet  and  let  it  pass,  but  just 
as  we  had  agreed  among  ourselves  to  do  so,  we  were 
startled  by  a  long,  piercing  scream,  which  made  a  thrill 
of  terror  run  through  my  veins.  I  was  almost  paralyzed 
with  fright. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Henderson !"  exclaimed  Butler, 
in  alarm.  "  What  is  the  matter,  man?  You  needn't  be 
afraid,  it  is  only  a  horse." 

"  Men,  that  was  my  sister's  voice,  I  know  it  was,"  I 
answered,  as  soon  as  I  could  speak. 

"  Nonsense,  man,  what  would  she  be  doing  out  in  the 
mountains?  There  is  no  one  that  would  harm  her; 
surely  the  rebs  would  never  molest  her." 

"  We  don't  know  that ;  at  all  events  it  is  a  woman's 
voice,  and  she  is  in  some  sort  of  danger,  else  why  that 
scream  ?" 

"  Well,  chaps,"  said  Thompson,  "  I  kind  o'  calkilate  it 
is  a  gal,  an'  I  allow  to  be  up  an'  a  doin'.  I'll  bet  a  boss 
it's  a  Union  gal,  fur  no  other  sort  ever  comes  up  into 
these  mountains." 

While  this  man  had  been  makino^  his  observation,  he 
had  been  buckling  on  his  arms.  I  liad  begun  to  arm 
myself  as  soon  as  I  heard  the  scream.  No  sooner  was 
this  done,  than  instead  of  following  the  usual  trail  along 
the  face  of  the  cliff,  we  turned  to  the  left  and  clambered 
up  the  steep  side  of  the  mountain  several  hundred  feet, 
and  stood  upon  the  summit,  which  was  about  two  miles 
wide  and  quite  level.  It  was  a  near  cut,  and  well  calcu- 
lated to  head  off  any  one  coming  toward  us  by  either  of 
the  two  trails,  which  here  met  just  over  our  cave.  There 
was  a  thick  growth  of  scrubby  oak  interspersed  with 
cedars,  covering  every  part  of  the  mountain,  and  espe- 
cially about  the  cave.     It  was  a  bright,  clear  morning  ia 


468    HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UNIONISTS  HUNQ  A  GUERRILLA. 

the  earl  J  part  of  July,  and  everything  was  so  still  in  the 
mountain  solitude,  that  sound  was  conveyed  an  incredible 
distance.  Listening  again  attentively,  we  could  hear  the 
sound  very  distinctly ;  it  was  a  single  horse,  and  was 
approacliing  along  the  right  hand  trail.  My  first  im- 
pression was  that  it  was  my  sister  coming  to  warn  me  of 
some  imminent  danger,  and  what  strengthened  the  im- 
pression, was  the  fact  that  this  right  hand  trail  descended 
the  mountain  and  came  out  into  the  valley,  within  two 
hundred  yards  of  my  father's  door.  We  were  not  kept 
long  in  suspense,  for  in  less  time  than  I  have  taken  to  tell 
it,  a  large  and  powerful  horse  bounded  into  view ;  and, 
oh,  heavens!  it  was  guided  by  a  young  and  powerful- 
looking  man,  who  clasped  in  one  arm  a  beautiful  young 
woman.  At  the  first  glance,  I  recognized  young  Yance, 
the  guerrilla,  and  the  next  bound  of  the  horse,  as  he 
turned  a  little  to  me,  revealed  the  face  of  my  sister, 

"  Now,  my  young  lady,  make  another  particle  of  noise, 
and  I  will  drive  this  knife  into  your  bosom,"  said  the 
guerrilla,  his  face  livid  with  passion,  as  he  flashed  a. 
murderous-looking  bowie-knife  close  to  her  face. 

The  girl  trembled  like  an  aspen  leaf,  but  was  too  much 
terrified  to  speak. 

At  the  first  glance  my  blood  almost  curdled  in  my 
veins ;  the  next  moment  it  seemed  seething  hot.  Thomp- 
gon  and  I  had  both  instinctively  concealed  ourselves  the 
moment  we  reached  the  top.  My  first  impulse  was  to 
fire,  and  I  partly  raised  my  gun  to  do  so,  when  I  was 
restrained  by  my  companion,  who  said,  in  a  hoarse 
whisper: — 

"  Stop,  Henderson,  you  may  murder  your  sister ;  don't 
be  so  rash,  man ;  we  kin  track  him  up  wheresomever  he 
goes  to  with  her,  Thar's  no  use  to  be  in  sich  a  hurry ; 
take  it  cool,  man,"  and  he  pulled  m.y  rifle  down. 

Before  I  had  time  to  reply  the  guerrilla  wheeled  his 
horse,  and  checking  to  a  walk,  pursued  his  way  until  he 
aiTived  at  the  end  of  the  trail  that  led  down  on  the  face 


HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UNIONISTS  HTJNG  A  GUERRILLA.     463 

of  tbe  cliff.  In  an  instant  I  divined  his  intention;  he 
was  taking  her  to  the  cave,  for  what  purpose  I  knew  not, 
only  I  knew  that  his  intentions  could  not  be  other  than 
evil.  The  guerrilla  sprang  to  the  ground,  and  lifted  my 
sister  from  the  horse. 

"  Can  you  walk,  miss  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  show  of  re- 
spect. There  was  no  answer ;  my  sister  was  too  terrified 
to  speak. 

Without  loosing  his  hold  of  her,  the  guerrilla  secured 
his  horse  to  the  branch  of  a  tree ;  the  next  instant  he 
swung  his  right  arm  around  her,  and  lifting  her  clear 
off  the  ground,  supported  her  with  the  left,  and  began 
to  descend  the  trail.  Oh,  the  terror  of  that  moment ;  a 
single  false  step  of  his,  and  they  would  both  be  hurled 
hundreds  of  feet  down  npon  the  great  jagged  rocks  below. 
There  was  no  help  for  it ;  I  could  only  look  on,  for  well 
I  knew  the  desperado  would  not  hesitate  to  take  her  life 
if  he  were  surprised ;  my  greatest  fear  was,  that  he  should 
discover  the  men  at  the  cave ;  and  then,  in  his  wild  despe- 
ration, he  might  murder  or  hurl  her  over  the  cliff.  For 
fear  of  alarming  him  ourselves,  Thompson  and  I  sat 
down  and  pulled  oft"  our  boots,  and  followed  him  with 
cat-like  stealth  until  he  reached  the  cave,  when  he  un- 
ceremoniously entered. 

"  Quick,  now  is  our  time,"  I  whispered  to  Thompson, 
and  springing  into  the  cave  after  him,  I  dealt  hirn  a 
fearful  blow  with  the  breech  of  my  pistol,  and  he  fell  at 
my  feet  stunned  and  bleeding ;  in  falling  he  reeled  partly 
toward  me,  and  I  caught  my  sister  in  my  arms:  she  was 
nearly  inanimate,  yet  was  perfectly  conscious,  but  weak 
from  fright. 

The  men  in  the  cave  had  never  left  it  or  concerned 
themselves  about  the  alarm,  until  they  heard  the  guer- 
rilla's footsteps  upon  the  trail  on  the  cliff",  when  they  had 
hastily  armed  themselves,  but  ere  they  were  prepared  the 
desperado  had  entered,  and  before  they  had  time  to  chal- 
lenge, I  had  felled  him  to  the  earth.     They  were  almost 


470   HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UNIONISTS  HUNG  A  GUERRILLA, 

dumbfounded  at  the  scene  they  had  witnessed,  but  fore- 
bore  asking  us  any  questions  until  they  had  first  dis- 
armed the  villain,  and  then  securely  bound  him.  Next 
we  made  a  couch  of  our  blankets  and  coats,  upon  the  dry 
floor  of  the  cave,  for  my  sister  to  rest  upon  until  she 
should  be  sufficiently  restored  to  narrate  the  affair  of 
her  capture. 

When  we  had  bound  the  guerrilla  we  laid  him  near 
the  door,  where  the  fresh  air  could  reach  him ;  he 
breathed  heavily,  but  I  could  see  that  he  was  only 
stunned,  and  that  he  would  soon  revive. 

Devoting  my  first  attention  to  my  sister,  I  urged  her  to 
takea  drink  from  my  canteen;  it  contained  a  preparation 
of  tonic  bitters,  which  had  the  effect  to  restore  her  in  a 
few  moments,  when  she  exclaimed :  "0  Paul, you  here?" 
and  when  she  revived  a  little  more,  she  i^roceeded  to 
relate  the  })articulars  of  her  capture. 

"  We  were,"  she  said,  "  sitting  at  the  breakfeast  table, 
enjoying  ourselves  as  best  we  could  ;  father  and  mother, 
sister  Lizzie  and  myself,  when  the  house  was  suddenly 
surrounded  by  about  twenty  of  Frank  Gurley's  men. 
While  part  of  them  stood  guard,  the  greater  portion 
entered  the  house  and  began  to  pillage  it ;  threatening 
father,  and  mother,  and  Lizzie  with  death,  if  they  did 
not  show  where  all  the  silver  ware  was  hid.  At  this 
moment,  and  when  the  confusion  was  at  the  highest, 
3^oung  Vance  threw  a  shawd  over  my  head,  and  by  the 
aid  of  a  comrade,  who  was,  no  doubt,  well  paid  for  his 
villainy,  he  carried  me  out  to  his  horse,  and  mounted, 
wdien  they  lifted  me  up  before  him,  and  he  started  for 
the  mountains.  I  did  not  know^  wdiere  he  was  going  or 
wdiat  his  intentions  were,  until  we  struck  the  foot  of 
the  mountain,  v>'hen  he  said  : — 

"'Now,  my  young  lady,  help  yourself;  I  would 
smile  to  see  your  brother  Paul  help  you  now.' 

'•'  I  begged  him  to  let  mo  go,  in  tlic  most  piteous  terms; 
I  even  promised  to  forgive  him  if  he  w^ould  let  me  go 
back  to  my  poor  old  father  and  mother;  I  pictured  their 


HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UNIONISTS  n'0NO  A  GUERRILLA.      471 

distress  when  thej  should  miss  my  presence ;  but  it  all 
did  no  good — he  only  laughed  at  my  terror." 

" '  Oh,  no,  my  little  beauty,'  he  said,  *  I  have  a  place 
picked  out  where  I  can  keep  you  until  you  die  of  old  age, 
and  your  friends  can  never  find  you.' 

"  I  begged  him  again  to  put  me  down,  and  let  me  go 
back,  reminding  him  of  his  former  standing  in  society, 
of  his  parents  and  friends,  and  pictured  their  grief  at  his 
infamous  procedure;  but  he  only  laughed  derisively,  and 
spurred  his  horse  to  renewed  exertions. 

"He  said,  'Oh,  no,  my  little  pet,  I  cannot  give  you  up; 
you  are  to  be  my  mistress,  now.  You  refused  to  marry 
me  once  when  I  wanted  you  to  do  so ;  now  I  do  not  want 
you  for  my  wife ;  I  do  not  want  to  marry  now,  but  I  do 
want  a  bright-eyed  little  mistress,  and  you  are  just  tha 
girl  for  me.' 

"I  saw  that  I  was  in  the  hands  of  a  fiend,  and  resolved 
to  sell  my  life  at  a  fearful  rate  if  I  got  the  least  oppor- 
tunity. I  plead  with  him,  'O  Charlie  Vance,  you  will 
not  dishonor  me ;  think  how  miserable  I  shall  then  be ; 
I  shall  be  an  outcast;  I  cannot  hold  up  my  head  again; 
my  parents  will  die  of  grief  if  you  do  this  great  crime; 
you  nmst  not,  you  will  not,  Charlie;  do  let  me  go.'  I  had 
already  screamed  aloud  for  help,  but  there  was  no  help 
near,  and  he  only  laid  his  heavy  hand  uj)on  my  mouth, 
clutched  me  closer,  and  laughed  derisively  in  my  ear, 
and  hissed : — 

" '  You  would  not  be  my  wife,  Mary  Henderson ;  nov.'. 
by  all  that  is  good,  you  shall  be  my  mistress.'  I  tlien 
thought  of  seizing  some  of  his  weapons  and  dispatching 
him;  but,  as  if  divining  my  object  he  drew  his  bowie 
knife  and  flourished  it  close  to  my  face,  so  close  that  the 
cold  steel  touched  my  cheek,  and  I  was  so  terrified  that 
again  I  shrieked  aloud;  but  this  time  he  urged  me  to 
scream  again,  and  told  me  there  was  no  help  near." 

She  paused  an  instant,  when  Glenn  remarked,  "And 
that  is  the  shriek  we  heard,  ibr  it  was  not  far  off." 


472     HOW  THE  ALABAMA  rNIONTSTS  HTJNa  A  GUERRILLA. 

At  this  moment  our  attention  was  attracted  by  a  groan, 
and  turning  towards  the  guerrilla,  we  were  astonished  to 
see  him  sitting  up  and  listening  attentively  to  the  whole 
recital. 

"  A  thousand  curses  on  you  all/'  he  muttered. 

My  first  thought  was  death  to  him,  but  the  next 
moment  I  thought  of  Mary,  and  I  did  not  want  her  to 
know  what  became  of  him ;  so  I  told  the  men  to  secure 
him  until  I  came  back.  Then,  after  urging  Mary  to  take 
another  sip  of  bitters,  I  lifted  her  to  her  feet  and  bade 
her  follow  me.  At  the  edge  of  the  clift'  her  presence  of 
mind  failed  her  as  she  looked  down  into  the  fearful 
abyss;  seeing  that  she  could  never  bear  to  walk  it,  I 
lifted  her  in  my  arms  and  rapidly  carried  her  to  the  other 
end,  and  set  her  down  upon  her  feet.  A  moment's  rest 
after  the  fright  it  gave  her,  and  she  was  able  to  walk. 

"  Come,  sister,  we  will  go  out  on  the  spur  of  the  Little 
Hurricane,  and  see  what  the  devils  are  doing;  they  may 
be  gone  ere  this ;  who  knows  ?" 

Eising  to  her  feet,  she  followed  with  a  firm  step ;  but 
scarcely  had  we  traversed  half  the  distance,  when  a  huge 
column  of  smoke  darkened  the  horizon.  Alarmed  at 
this,  we  quickened  our  pace  and  soon  arrived  on  the  end 
of  the  spur,  and  keeping  well  under  the  cover  of  the 
bushes,  we  crept  out  to  a  huge  rock  on  the  top  of  a  bluff, 
and  peering  cautiously  down  into  the  valley,  we  beheld 
our  father's  house  in  flames. 

The  guerrillas  were  just  in  the  act  of  mounting  their 
horses  to  ride  off;  their  horses  were  loaded  with  plunder, 
and  they  had  taken  the  family  carriage  and  only  remain- 
ing wagon,  and  loaded  them  with  such  things  as  they 
could  not  carry  on  horseback,  and  were  now  about  start- 
ing away  with  their  booty.  There  stood  our  gray-haired 
father  in  front  of  his  burning  dwelling,  his  long  gray  hair 
streaming  in  the  wind;  his  head  was  bowed  upon  his 
bosom ;  with  one  arm  he  clasped  my  mother  to  his  side, 
while  her  head  rested  upon  his  shoulder;  they  looked 


HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UNIONISTS  HUNG  A  GUERRILLA.     4T3 

heart-broken.  As  they  stood  there  regarding  the  destruc- 
tion of  their  property,  I  knew  that  great  hot  tears  were 
coursing  down  their  aged  cheeks. 

"O  brother,  we  are  ruined,  we  are  beggars,  now." 
sobbed  my  sister,  as  we  turned  back  toward  the  main 
mountain. 

"Not  so  bad  as  that,  I  hope,"  I  said,  encouragingly; 
"not  so  bad  as  that,"  but  she  only  sobbed  the  more. 

Hastily  concealing  Mary  behind  an  enormous  tree,  I 
took  the  trail  back  to  the  cave,  fully  intent  upon  settling 
with  my  prisoner,  whom  I  had  left  there  under  guard. 
On  reaching  the  cave  I  called  my  friends  out  and  related 
the  whole  affair  as  I  had  heard  it,  and  then  asked  their 
advice  as  to  what  we  should  do  with  the  prisoner,  and 
their  unanimous  verdict  was — "Hang  him." 

There  was  no  time  to  lose.  In  my  own  mind  I  had 
fully  resolved  to  kill  him,  from  the  moment  he  came  in 
sight,  and  saw  him  flourish  the  bowie-knife  across  my 
sister's  face,  thus  trying  to  frighten  her  to  consent  to  her 
own  infamy.  But  when  the  vote  was  taken  to  hang  him, 
I  shrank  from  the  task  with  a  shudder.  Better  iiad  I 
shot  him  when  he  had  made  his  first  assault  upon  her. 
He  would  then  have  been  killed  in  the  heat  of  passion, 
and  I  would  never  have  given  it  a  second  thought ;  but 
now,  to  hang  him  seemed  so  heartless,  so  bloodthirsty^  so 
cruel,  that  for  some  minutes  I  could  not  bring  my  mind 
to  consent  to  it.  Then  a  solemn  conviction  of  duty  came 
over  me,  and  I  voted  "  Aye." 

AVe  cast  lots  to  see  Avho  should  act  as  executioner ;  the 
lot  fell  upon  Thompson,  but  all  were  to  assist.  Going  to 
him  we  unbound  his  feet,  and  told  him  to  rise. 

"  Well,  Vance,"  said  Thompson,  "  I've  got  a  little  busi- 
ness with  you,  my  boy." 

"  Name  it,"  said  Vance. 

"Why,  we've  ben  a  considerin'  this  matter  that  you've 
been  engaged  in,  an'  we've  concluded  to  hang  you." 

At    this   announcement    the   prisoner's    knees   smote 


474     HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UNIONISTS  HUNG  A  GUERRILLA. 

together,  his  face  turned  lividlj  pale,  his  lips  were  blood- 
less, and  as  he  stood  in  the  dark  shadows  of  the  cave,  he 
seemed  more  like  some  gnome  from  the  spirit  land  than 
a  human  being.  For  some  moments  he  stood  in  speech- 
less terror,  and  then  faintly  gasped : — 

"  Mercy,  mercy,  men,  mercy !" 

"Thar's  no  use  o'  talkin'  about  mercy  now,"  said 
Thompson  ;  "you  had  oughter  thought  about  that  mercy 
Avhen  you  was  a  totin'  that  gal  to  this  den  to  ravish  her! 
If  my  ears  sarved  me  right,  I  think  she  mentioned  that 
delicate  attribute  of  human  natur,  in  terms  loud  enough 
to  have  made  a  devil  hear  it,  but  you  only  swung  your 
bowie-knife  over  her  head,  and  told  her  to  keep  still.  Now, 
that  is  just  the  advice  I'll  give  to  you  under  your  pre- 
sent circumstances — keep  still." 

"  Men,  you  don't  intend  to  murder  me,  do  you  ?  Oh,  do 
let  me  live ;  don't  take  my  life  I" 

"  Now,  that  all  sounds  very  purty,  comin'  from  your 
mouth,  Charley  "V  ance ;  but  why  didn't  you  think  of  all 
that  when  you  was  a  hangin'  Jack  Allowiue,  down  in 
Georgia,  last  spring  ?  Now,  Jack  talked  mity  sweet  for 
his  life,  an'  he  even  promised  to  go  into  the  rebel  army 
if  5"0U  would  spare  him,  but  you  insisted  on  his  bein' 
hung.  So  I  am  a  thinkin'  you  have  no  right  to  complain, 
for  turn  about  is  fair  play,  you  know." 

Thompson's  voice  was  cold  and  harsh  as  he  said  this, 
and  the  guerrilla  lost  all  hope,  when  he  found  that  we 
knew  of  his  many  crimes. 

"An'  how  about  the  widder  Jones'  boy  on  Sequatchie  ?" 
pursued  Thomp.son;  "he  thought  marcy  was  a  good  thing 
to  have  along  too,  but  you  shot  him  dead  at  his  mother's 
feet,  with  your  own  hands,  because  he  wouldn't  go  into 
the  rebel  army.  IIow  did  the  widder's  voice  sound,  when 
she  axed  you  for  marcy  for  her  boy  ?" 

"  But,  men,  you  don't  intend  to  send  me  into  eternity 
with  all  my  sins  on  my  head,  do  you  ?  You  will  give. 
me  time  to  pray,  will  you  not?     Let   me  live  till  to- 


HOW  THE  ALABAMA  UNIOXISTS  HUNG  A  GUERRILLA.    475 

morrow  morning ;  let  me  have  time  to  prepare  for 
death!" 

"Oh,  well,  now,  look'ee  'yer;  do  you  think  Ave're  a 
goin'  to  fool  avv'ay  twenty-four  hours  with  a  'tarnal  bush- 
whacker? You  can  jist  have  five  minutes  to  pray,  by 
the  watch,  and  not  another  minute,  so  you  had  better 
kneel,  an'  be  at  it." 

Leaving  the  prisoner  alone  with  his  God  in  the  gloom 
of  the  cave,  we  went  outside  of  the  door  to  decide  on  a 
suitable  place  for  the  execution.  Glenn  proposed  to  take 
him  out  to  the  end  of  the  mountain  to  a  noted  high 
cliff,  called  Tower  Rock,  to  hang  him.  This  idea  was 
adopted  by  unanimous  consent.  As  soon  as  the  five 
minutes  were  up  we  took  him  to  the  designated  place, 
carrying  vrith  us  the  forage  line  from  his  own  saddle,  to 
do  the  work  with.  Arriving  at  the  place  of  execution, 
M'e  allov>'ed  him  the  privilege  of  praying  for  one  minute, 
but  he  only  gasped  convulsively. 

"Men,  I  can't  pray.     Oh,  let  me  live!" 

As  we  liad  passed  almost  in  sight  of  the  old  house, 
Hodges  had  stepped  oif  toward  it,  and  soon  after 
rejoined  us  carrying  a  strong  plank.  At  the  Tower 
Rock,  he  took  Thompson  and  Glenn  to  one  side,  and  for 
a  few  moments  they  Avere  engaged  in  a  subdued  con- 
versation. Presently  they  came  back,  and  stepping  to 
a  cedar-tree  that  stood  near  the  verge  of  the  cliff  they 
shoved  one  end  of  the  plank  out  over  the  precipice,  and 
bound  the  other  end  down  to  the  root  with  a  ])iece  of  the 
forage  line,  while  a  still  longer  piece  was  used  as  a  safe- 
guard to  catch  the  board  after  it  should  have  fallen  a 
short  distance.  Then  turning  to  the  prisoner,  Thomp- 
son adressed  him  with  : — 

"  ^"ance,your  time  has  come," and  began  to  adjust  the 
rope  about  his  neck.  This  done,  they  led  him  to  the 
plank  and  placed  him  on  it,  and  while  they  were  fasten- 
ing the  other  end  of  tlic  rope  about  a  root  of  the  J-amo 
tree,  Glenn  told  the  prisoner  if  he  had  any  confession 
to  make,  to  do  it  now,  it  would  ease  his  soul. 


476    HOW  THE  ALABAMA  TNIONISTS  HUNG  A  GUERRILLA. 

"Do  you  think  it  will  ?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  I  do,"  was  the  reply. 

The  villain  reflected  a  few  moments,  as  if  to  refrest 
his  memory,  and  then  began  and  poured  forth  such  a 
tale  of  crime,  as  that  to  this  day  I  shudder  when  I  think 
of  its  recital.  Robbery,  murder,  rape,  he  admitted,  were 
chargeable  to  him;  crimes  that  had  been  committed 
months  before,  and  which  were  so  glaring  and  outrage- 
ous in  their  nature,  that  the  Confederate  authorities  had 
offered  immense  rewards  and  preferment  to  any  one  who 
should  ferret  out  the  perpetrators,  he  confessed  had  been 
committed  by  him  and  his  accomplices. 

Our  time  was  precious.  He  began  to  offer  something  in 
extenuation  of  his  villanous  career,  but  after  bandaging 
his  eyes  Thompson  ordered  him  to  step  out  on  the  plank. 
He  advanced  two  steps  and  stooped  back,  trembling  in 
every  joint. 

"Turn  your  thoughts  to  God,"  said  Glenn. 

"  May  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  have  mercy  on  his  ever- 
lasting soul,"  said  Thompson,  as  he  severed  the  cord 
from  the  root,  and  the  next  instant  the  plank  tilted,  and 
the  trembling  wretch  was  launched  over  the  precipice,  and 
hung  dangling  five  hundred  feet  above  the  valley  below. 

"Thar,  now,  that  is  one  guerrilla  less  to  contend  against, 
and  perhaps  many  an  honest  man's  life  saved,"  said 
Thompson,  as  he  coolly  closed  his  knife,  and  dropped  it 
back  into  the  depths  of  his  capacious  pocket. 

The  body  swayed  violently  a  few  seconds,  when  we 
heard  the  strands  of  the  line  crack,  and  looking  down  at 
the  place  where  it  passed  over  the  edge  of  the  sharp  rock, 
it  was  cut  nearly  in  two ;  another  sway  like  the  vibration 
of  a  pendulum,  and  the  remaining  strands  of  the  rope 
parted,  and  the  body  fell  with  the  speed  of  a  rocket  to 
the  foot  of  the  frowning  bluff".  We  heard  a  dull,  heavy 
boom  resounding  through  the  mountain  solitude,  and  the 
next  moment  turned  away  and  went  back  to  the  old 
shanty  almost  without  a  word. 


INCIDENTS  IN  THE  PURSUIT  OP  BOOTH.  47  T 


INCIDENTS  Df  TEE  PUESUIT  OF  BOOTH. 

The  few  Unionists  of  Prince  George's  and  Charles 
counties,  long  persecuted  and  intimidated,  came  forward 
and  gave  important  testimony. 

Among  these  was  one  Roby,  a  very  fat  and  very  zeal- 
ous old  gentleman,  whose  professions  were  as  ample  as 
his  perspiration.  He  told  the  ofilcers  of  the  secret  meet- 
ings for  conspiracy's  sake  at  Lloyd's  Hotel,  and  although 
a  very  John  Gilpin  on  horseback,  rode  here  and  there  to 
his  great  loss  of  wind  and  repose,  fastening  fire  coals 
upon  the  guilty  or  suspected. 

Lloyd  was  turned  over  to  Mr.  Cottingham,  who  had 
established  a  jail  at  Robytown;  that  night  his  house  was 
searched,  and  Booth's  carbine  found  hidden  in  the  wall. 
Three  days  afterwards,  Lloyd  himself  confessed. 

The  little  party,  under  the  untiring  Lovett,  examined 
all  the  farm-houses  below  Washington,  resorting  to  many 
shrewd  expedients,  and  taking  note  of  the  great  swamps 
to  the  east  of  Port  Tobacco ;  they  reached  Newport  at 
last,  and  fastened  tacit  guilt  upon  many  residents. 

Beyond  Bryantown  they  overhauled  tlie  residence  of 
Dr.  Mudd  and  found  Booth's  boots.  This  was  before 
Lloyd  confessed,  and  was  the  first  positive  trace  the 
officers  had  that  they  were  really  close  upon  the  assas- 
sins. 

I  do  not  recall  anything  more  wild  and  startling  than 
this  vague  and  dangerous  exploration  of  a  dimly  known, 
hostile,  and  ignorant  country.  To  these  few  detectives 
we  owe  much  of  the  subsequent  successful  precaution  of 
the  pursuit.     They  were  the  Hebrew  spies. 

By  this  time  the  country  was  filling  up  with  soldiers, 
but  previously  a  second  memorable  detective  party  went 
out  under  the  personal  command  of  Major  O'Biernc.  It 
consisted,  besides  that  officer,  of  Lee,  D'Angelis,  Calla- 
han, Hoey,  Bostwick,  Hanover,  Bevins,  and  McHenry, 


478  INCIDENTS  IN  THE  PURSUIT  OF  BOOTH. 

and  embarked  at  Vv'asliington  on  a  steam-tug  for 
Chappell's  Point.  Here  a  military  station  had  long 
been  established  for  the  prevention  of  blockade  and 
mail  running  across  the  Potomac.  It  Vv'as  commanded 
by  Lieutenant  Laverty,  and  garrisoned  by  sixty-five 
men.  On  Tuesday  night  i\Iajor  O'Bierne's  party 
reached  this  place,  and  soon  afterwards  a  telegraph 
station  was  established  here  by  an  invaluable  man  to 
the  expedition,  Captain  Beckwith,  General  Grant's 
chief  cipher  operator,  who  tapped  the  Point  Lookout 
wire,  and  placed  the  War  Department  within  a 
moment's  reach  of  the  theatre  of  events. 

Major  O'Bierne's  party  started  at  once  over  the 
worst  road  in  the  world  for  Port  Tobacco. 

If  any  place  in  the  world  is  utterly  given  over  to  de- 
pravity, it  is  Port  Tobacco.  From  this  town,  by  a  sinu- 
ous creek,  there  is  a  flat-boat  navigation  to  the  Potomac, 
and  across  that  river  to  Mattox  Creek.  Before  the  war 
Port  Tobacco  was  the  seat  of  a  tobacco  aristocracy  and  a 
haunt  of  negro  traders.  It  passed  very  naturally  into  a 
rebel  post  for  blockade-runners  and  a  rebel  post-office 
general.  Gambling,  corner  fighting,  and  shooting 
matches  were  its  lyceum  education.  Violence  and 
ignorance  had  every  suffrage  in  the  town.  Its  people 
were  smugglers,  to  all  intents,  and  there  was  neither 
Bible  nor  geography  to  the  whole  region  adjacent. 
Assassination  v/as  never  very  unpopular  at  Port  Tobac- 
co, and  when  its  victim  v/as  a  Northern  President,  it 
became  quite  heroic.  A  month  before  the  murder  a 
provost-marshal  near  ])y  was  slain  in  his  bed-chamber. 
For  such  a  town  and  district  the  detective  police  were 
the  only  effective  missionaries. 

The  hotel  here  is  called  the  Brawner  House  ;  it  ha«  a 
bar  in  the  nethermost  cellar,  and  its  patrons,  carousing 
in  that  imperfect  light,  look  like  the  denizens  of  son-ic 
burglar's  crib,  talking  robbery  betvreen  their  cups;  its 
dining-room  is  dark  and  tumble-down, and  thecuisine 
bears  "traces  of  Kaffir  origin;  a  barbecue  is  nothing  to  a 


INCIDENTS  IN  THE  PURSUIT  OF  BOOTH,  479 

dinner  there.  The  court-house  of  Port  Tobacco  is  t\^ 
most  superfluous  house  in  the  place,  except  the  church. 
It  stands  in  the  centre  of  the  town,  in  a  square,  and  th© 
dvrel lings  lie  about  it  closely,  as  if  to  throttle  justice. 
Five  hundred  people  exist  in  Port  Tobacco;  life  there 
reminds  me,  in  connection  with  the  slimy  river  and  the 
adjacent  swamps,  of  the  great  reptile  period  of  the  world, 
■when  ignanadons,  and  pterodactyls,  and  pleosauri  ate 
each  other. 

Into  this  abstract  of  Gomorrah  the  few  detectives  went 
like  angels  who  visited  Lot.  They  pretended  to  be 
inquiring  for  friends,  or  to  have  business  designs,  and  the 
first  people  they  heard  of  were  Harold  and  Atzeroth. 
The  latter  had  visited  Port  Tobacco  three  weeks  before 
the  murder,  and  intimated  at  that  time  his  design  of  flee- 
ing the  countr3\  But  everybody  denied  having  seen  him 
subsequent  to  the  crime. 

Atzeroth  had  been  in  town  just  prior  to  the  crime. 
He  had  been  living  with  a  widow  woman,  named  Mrs. 
Wheeler,  and  she  was  immediately  called  upon  by  Major 
O'Bierne.  He  did  not  tell  her  what  Atzeroth  had  done, 
but  vaguely  hinted  that  he  had  committed  some  terrible 
crime,  and  that  since  he  had  done  her  wrong,  she  could 
yindicate  both  herself  and  j-ustice  by  telling  his  -where- 
abouts. The  woman  admitted  that  Atzeroth  had  been 
her  bane,  but  she  loved  him,  and  refused  to  betray  him. 

His  trunk  was  found  in  her  garret,  and  in  it  t.ie  liej 
to  his  paint  shop  in  Port  Tobacco.  The  latter  was  fruit- 
lessly searched,  but  the  probable  whereabouts  of  Atzeroth 
in  Montgomery  County  obtained,  and  Major  O'Bierno 
telegraphing  there  immediately,  the  desperate  fellow  was 
found  and  locked  up,  A  man  named  Crangle,  who  hoi 
succeeded  Atzeroth  in  Mrs.  Wheeler's  pliable  afiecticjs, 
was  arrested  at  once  and  put  in  jail.  A  number  of  dis- 
loyal people  were  indicated  or  "  ppotted"  as  in  no  nv- 
angry  at  the  President's  taking  off)  and  for  all  r  jj:  / 
provost  prison  was  established.  ^ 


480  INCIDENTS  IN  THE  PURSUIT  OP  BOOTH, 

A  few  miles  from  Port  Tobacco  dwelt  a  solitary  woman, 
who,  when  questioned,  said  that  for  many  nights  she  had 
heard,  after  she  had  retired  to  bed,  a  man  enter  her  cellar 
and  be  there  all  night,  departing  before  dawn.  Major 
O'Bierne  and  the  detectives  ordered  her  to  place  a  lamp 
in  her  window  the  next  night  she  heard  him  enter ;  and 
at  dark  they  established  a  cordon  of  armed  officers  around 
the  place.  At  midnight  punctually  she  exhibited  the 
light,  when  the  officers  broke  into  the  house  and 
thoroughly  searched  it,  without  result.  Yet  the  woman 
positively  asserted  that  she  had  heard  the  man  enter. 

It  was  afterwards  found  that  she  was  of  diseased  mind. 

By  this  time  the  military  had  come  up  in  considerable 
numbers,  and  Major  O'Bierne  was  enabled  to  confer  with 
Major  Wait,  of  the  Eighth  Illinois. 

The  major  had  pushed  on,  on  Monday  night,  to  Leon- 
ardstown,  and  pretty  well  overhauled  that  locality. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  preparations  were  made  to  hunt 
the  swamps  around  Ch-apmantown,  Bethtown,  and  Allen's 
Fresh.  Booth  had  been  entirely  lost  since  his  departure 
from  Mudd's  house,  and  it  was  believed  that  he  had  either 
pushed  on  for  the  Potomac  or  taken  to  the  swamps.  The 
officers  sagaciously  determined  to  follow  him  to  the  one 
and  to  explore  the  other. 

The  swamps  tributary  to  the  various  branches  of  the 
"Wicomico  Kiver,  of  which  the  chief  feeder  is  Allen's 
Creek,  bear  various  names,  such  as  Jordan's  Swamp, 
Atchall's  Swamp,  and  Scrub  Swamp.  There  are  dense 
growths  of  dogwood,  gum,  and  beech  planted  in  sluices 
of  water  and  bog,  and  their  width  varies  from  a  half 
mile  to  four  miles,  while  their  length  is  upwards  of  six- 
teen miles.  Frequent  deep  ponds  dot  tliis  wilderness 
place,  with  here  and  there  a  stretch  of  dry  soil,  but  no 
human  being  inhabits  the  malarious  extent;  even  a 
hunted  murderer  would  shrink  from  hiding  there.  Ser- 
pents and  slimy  lizards  are  the  only  denizens;  sometimes 
the  coon  takes  refuge  in  this  desert  from  the  hounds,  and 


INCIDENTS  IN  THE  PURSCIT  OF  BOOTH.  481 

in  the  soft  mud  a  thousand  odorous  muskrats  delve, 
and  now  and  then  a  tremulous  otter.  But  not  even  the 
hunted  negro  dare  to  fathom  the  treacherous  clav,  nor. 
make  himself  a  fellow  of  the  vslimy  reptiles  which  reign 
absolute  in  this  terrible  solitude.  Here  the  soldiers  pre- 
pared to  seek  for  the  President's  assassin,  and  no  search 
of  the  kind  lias  ever  been  so  thorough  and  patient.  The 
Shawnee  in  his  stronghold  of  despair  in  the  heart  of  the 
Okeefenokee,  would  scarcely  have  changed  homes  with 
"Wilkes  Booth  and  David  Harold,  hiding  in  this  inhuman 
country. 

The  military  forces  deputed  to  pursue  the  fugitives 
were  sevep  hundred  men  of  the  Eighth  Illinois  Cavalry, 
six  hundred  men  of  the  twenty-second  Colored  Troops, 
and  one  hundred  men  of  the  Sixteenth  New  York.  These 
swept  the  swamps  by  detachments,  the  mass  of  them  dis- 
mounted, with  cavalry  at  the  belts  of  clearings,  inter- 
spersed with  detectives  at  frequent  intervals  in  the  rear. 
They  first  formed  a  strong  picket  cordon  entirely  around 
the  swamps,  and  then,  drawn  up  in  two  orders  of  battle, 
advanced  boldly  into  the  bogs  by  two  lines  of  march. 
One  party  swept  the  swamps  longitudinally,  the  other 
pushed  straight  across  their  smallest  diameter. 

A  similar  march  has  not  been  made  during  the  war;  the 
soldiers  were  only  a  few  paces  apart,  and  in  steady  order 
they  took  the.  ground  as  it  came,  now  plunging  to  their 
armpits  in  foul  sluices  of  gangrened  water,  now  hope- 
lessly submerged  in  slime,  now  attacked  by  legions  of 
wood-ticks,  now  tempting  some  unfaithful  log  or  green- 
ishly  solid  morass,  and  plunging  to  the  tip  of  the  skull  in 
poisonous  stagnation;  the  tree  boughs  rent  their  uniforms; 
they  came  out  upon  dry  land  many  of  them  without  a 
rag  of  garment,  scratched,  and  gashed,  and  spent,  repug- 
nant to  themselves,  and  disgusting  to  those  who  saw  them ; 
but  not  one  trace  of  Booth  or  Harold  was  anywhere 
found.  Wherever  they  might  be,  the  swamps  did  not 
contain  them, 
31 


482  INCIDENTS  IN  THE  PURSUIT  OF  BOOTH. 

"While  all  this  was  going  on  a  force  started  from  Foint 
Lookout,  and  swept  the  narrow  necks  of  St.  Mary's  quite 
up  to  Medley's  Neck.  To  complete  the  search  in  this 
part  of  the  country  Colonel  Wells  and  Major  O'Bierne 
started,  with  a  force  of  cavalry  and  infantry,  for  Chappell 
Point.  They  took  the  entire  peninsula,  as  before,  and 
marched  in  close  skirmish  line  across  it,  but  without 
finding  anything  of  note.  The  manner  of  inclosing  a 
Louse  was  by  cavalry  advances,  which  held  all  the  ave- 
nues till  mounted  detectives  came  up.  Many  strange  and 
ludicrous  adventures  occurred  on  eacb  of  these  expedi- 
tions. While  the  forces  were  going  up  Cobb's  Neck 
there  was  a  counter  force  coming  down  from  Allen's 
Fresh. 

Major  O'Bierne  started  for  Leonardstown  with  his 
detective  force,  and  played  off  Laverty  as  Booth,  and 
Hoey  as  Harold.  These  two  advanced  to  farm-houses 
and  gave  their  assumed  Hames,  asking  at  the  same  time 
for  assistance  and  shelter.  They  were  generally  avoided, 
except  by  one  man  named  Claggert,  who  told  them  they 
might  hide  in  the  woods  behind  his  house.  When  Clag- 
gert was  arrested,  however,  he  stated  that  be  meant  to 
bide  only  to  give  them  up.  While  on  this  adventure, 
a  man  who  had  heard  of  the  reward  came  very  near 
shooting  Laverty.  The  ruse  now  became  hazardous,  and 
the  detectives  resumed  their  real  characters. 

One  Mills,  a  rebel  mail-carrier,  also  arrested,  saw  Booth 
and  Harold  lurking  along  the  river  bank  on  Friday;  he 
referred  Major  O'Bierne  to  one  Claggert,  a  rebel,  as 
having  seen  them  also;  but  Claggert  held  his  tongue 
and  went  to  jail.  On  Saturday  night.  Major  O'Bierne, 
thus  assured,  also  crossed  the  Potomac  with  his  detec- 
tives to  Boone's  farm,  where  the  fugitives  had  landed. 
While  collecting  information  here  a  gun-boat  swung  up 
the  stream,  and  threatened  to  open  fire  on  the  party. 

It  was  now  night,  and  all  the  party  worn  to  the  ground 
■with  long  travel  and  want  of  sleep.    Lieutenant  Laverty'a 


SWEARING   A  CONTRABAND.  483 

men  went  a  short  distance  down  the  country  and  gave 
up,  and  Major  O'Bierne,  with  a  single  man,  pushed  all 
night  to  King  George's  Court  House,  and  next  day, 
Sunday,  re-enibarked  for  Chappell's  Point.  Hence  he 
telegraphed  his  information,  and  asked  permission  to 
pursue,  promising  to  catch  the  assassins  before  they 
reached  Port  Royal. 

This  the  department  refused.  Colonel  Baker's  men 
"were  delegated  to  make  the  pursuit  with  the  able 
Lieutenant  Doherty,  and  O'Bierne,  who  was  the  most 
active  and  successful  spirit  in  the  chase,  returned  to 
Washington,  cheerful  and  contented. 


SWEARING  A  CONTRABANi. 

Company  K,  of  the  first  Iowa  Cavalrv,  stationed  in 
Tennessee,  received  into  their  camp  a  middle-aged  but 
vigorous  contraband.  Innumerable  questions  were 
being  propounded  to  him,  when  a  corporal  advanced 
observing — "  See  here,  Dixie,  before  you  can  enter  the 
service  of  the  United  States  you  must  be  sworn." 

"  Yes,  massa,  I  do  dat,"  he  replied ;  when  the  cor- 
poral continued  : — 

•'  Well,  then,  take  hold  of  the  Bible,"  holding  out  a 
letter  envelope,  upon  which  was  delineated  the  God- 
dess of  Liberty,  standing  on  a  Suffolk  ])ig,  wearing  the 
emblem  of  our  country.  The  negro  grasped  the  envel- 
ope cautiously  with  his  thumb  and  finger,  when  the 
corporal  proceeded  to  administer  the  oath  by  saying : 

"  You  do  solemnly  swear  that  you  will  su[)port  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  see  that  there 
are  no  grounds  floating  upon  the  coffee  at  all  times." 

"  Yes,  massa,  I  do  dat,"  he  replied ;  "  I  allers  settle 
him  in  de  coffee-pot." 

Here  he  let  go  the  envelope  to  gesticulate  by  a  down- 


484,  GEN.  m'call's  first  escape, 

■ward  tlirust  of  his  forefinger  tlie  direction  that  would  be 
given  to  the  coffee  grounds  for  the  future. 

"Never  mind  how  you  do  it,"  shouted  the  corporal, 
"  but  hold  on  to  the  Bible." 

"  Lordy,  massa,  I  forgot,"  said  the  negro,  as  he  darted 
forward  and  grasped  the  envelope  with  a  firmer  clutch, 
when  the  corporal  continued  : — 

"And  you  do  solemnly  swear  that  you  will  support 
the  Constitution  of  all  loyal  States,  and  not  spit  upon 
the  plates  when  cleaning  them,  or  wipe  them  with  your 
shirt-sleeves." 

Here  a  frown  lowered  upou  the  brow  of  the  negro,  his 
eyes  expanded  to  their  largest  dimensions,  while  his  lips 
protruded  with  a  rounded  form  as  he  exclaimed : — 

"  Lordy,  massa,  I  never  do  dat.  I  allers  washes  him 
nice.     Ole  missus  mighty  'ticular  'bout  dat." 

"  ISTever  mind  ole  missus,"  shouted  the  corporal,  as  he 
resumed ;  "  and  you  do  solemnly  swear  that  you  will  put 
milk  into  the  coffee  every  morning,  and  see  that  the  ham. 
and  eggs  are  not  cooked  too  much  or  too  little." 

"  Yes,  I  do  dat ;  I'se  a  good  cook." 

"And  lastly,"  continued  the  corporal,  "you  do  solemnly 
Bwear  that  when  this  war  is  over  you'll  make  tracks  for 
Africa  mighty  fast." 

"  Yes,  massa,  I  do  dat.  I  allers  wanted  to  go  to  Chee- 
cargo." 

Here  the  regimental  drum  beat  up  for  dress  parade, 
when  Tom  Benton — that  being  his  name — vv'as  declared 
duly  sworn  in  and  commissioned  as  chief-cook  in  Com- 
pany K,  of  the  First  Iowa  Cavalry. 


GEN.  McCALL'S  PIEST  ESCAPE. 

Gen.  McCall  had  a  narrow  escape  of  capture  on  the 
evening  of  the  27th  June,  after  the  battle  of  Gaines's  Hill. 
After  the  battle  was  over,  Gen,  McCall  decided  to  seek 


GEN.  M'CALL^S  ¥fKS^  WCAM!.  4^5 

the  house  which  had  been  Gen.  Porter's  head-quarters  in 
the  early  part  of  the  day ;  and,  attended  by  an  officer  of 
his  staff,  Major  Lewis,  of  the  Pennsylvania  Artillery, 
started  out  in  pursuit  of  it. 

They  mistook  the  road  in  the  darkness;  and  after 
riding  nearly  a  mile,  they  came  to  a  house  which  proved 
to  be  a  hospital.  They  were  met  at  the  door  by  a  young 
assistant-surgeon,  who  informed  them  he  had  sixty 
wounded  soldiers  there,  that  he  belonged  to  the  regular 
U.  S.  Army,,  and  that  the  rebel  pickets  were  on  three 
sides  of  him.  He  said  that  as  it  was  neutral  ground, 
they  had  not  attempted  to  molest  him,  but  seriously 
■advised  the  General  and  Major  to  get  back  to  their  lines 
•as  soon  as  might  be. 

This  advice  they  proceeded  to  avail  themselves  of,  and 
tui'ned  the  corner  of  the  hospital  to  return,  but  they  had 
not  gone  ten  yards  before  they  were  greeted  with  the 
short,  sharp  "  halt"  of  the  sentry.  An  orderly  who  had 
attended  them  advanced  at  the  command  "  Advance,  friend, 
and  give  the  countersign,"  and  responded,  "  Escort  with 
'the  general." 

"What  is  his  name?"  cried  the  guard. 

"General  McCall,"  answered  the  orderly. 

"General  what?"  said  the  sentry. 

"  Gen.  McCall."  The  picket,  not  seeming  to  recognize 
or  understand  the  name,  the  General  rode  forward  and 
i-epeated,  "  General  McCall." 

"  Of  what  army  ?"  asked  the  sentinel. 

"The  Army  of  the  Potomac,"  replied  the  General. 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  the  guard ;  "but  on  Avhat  side?" 

"The  command  of  Major-General  McClellan." 

"  The  h — 11  you  do,"  yelled  the  sentry,  and  he  raised 
his  piece,  two  others  doing  the  same,  who  had  remained 
quiet. 

The  Major,  who  it  seems  had  previously  "smelled  a 
"rat,"  having  detected  the  southern  accent  in  the  queries, 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  quietly  wheel  his  horse,  and 


486  A  FRIGHTENED  AFRICAW. 

as  they  fired,  sank  bis  spurs  into  him  and  plunged  for- 
ward, taking  the  General's  horse  by  the  rein.  They 
dashed  off,  and  although  fired  at  more  than  twenty 
times  by  the  now  aroused  enemy,  succeeded  in  getting 
back  safely  to  camp,  having  suffered  no  injury  except 
to  their  horses,  all  of  which  were  hit,  and  one  killed. 

A  FRIGHTENED  AFRICAN. 

A  portly  young  contraband,  who  escaped  from  his 
rebel  master  at  Antietam,  was  engaged  by  one  of  our 
junior  staff  officers  as  a  body  servant.  The  officer  had 
served  gallantly  at  Sharpsburg,  where  he  had  lost  a  leg, 
below  the  knee,  the  absence  of  which  had  been  made 
up  by  an  artificial  limb,  which  the  captain  wore  with  so 
easy  a  grace  that  few  persons  suspected  his  misfortune. 
The  captain  had  been  "out  to  dine,"  and  upon  retiring, 
he  called  his  servant  to  assist  in  pulling  off  his  boots. 

"  Now,  Jimmy,  look  sharp,"  said  the  captain  ;  "  I'm 
a  little — ic — flimsy,  Jimmy,  t'night.  Look  sharp,  an' 
— ic — pull  steady." 

"  I'se  allers  keerful,  cap'n,"  says  Jimmy,  drawing  off 
one  long  wet  boot,  and  standing  it  aside. 

"Now,  mind  your  eye,  Jim.  The  other  is  a  little 
light — easy,  now — that's  it.  Pull  away!"  continued 
the  captain,  good  naturedly,  enjoying  the  prospective 
joke,  while  he  loosened  the  straps  about  his  waist, 
which  held  his  cork  leg  up,  "  now  you've  got  it !  Yip 
— there  you  are !" 

"  Oh,  lord  !  oh,  lord  !  oh,  lord  r  screamed  the  captain, 
as  contraband,  cork  leg,  riding-boots,  and  ligatures 
tumbled  across  the  tent,  and  fell  back  upon  his  pallet, 
convulsed  with  spasmodic  laughter.  At  this  moment 
the  door  opened  and  a  lieutenant  entered. 

"  G'way  fum  me ;  g'way  fum  me ;  Icmmy  be!  lemmy 
be !  I  ain't  dun  nuffin,''  yelled  the  contraband,  rush- 
ing to  the  door,  really  supposing  he  had  pulled  his 
master's  leg  clean  off. 


CAFTURK  or  JEFF.  DAVTS.  48Y 

"Lemmj  go !     I  didn't  do  nuffin — g  way  1  gVviy !" 
Jimmy  put    for    the  woods    in    desperation,  and   the 
probabilities  are  that  the  darkey  is  running  yet. 


CAPTUEE  or  JETP.  DAVIS. 

General  Debrell,  who  commanded  his  escort,  was  en- 
gaged in  the  battle  near  Raleigh,  N.  C,  v/hen  he  received 
intelligence  of  the  surrender  of  Lee,  and  at  the  same  time 
Wheeler  got  a  despatch  from  Jeff.  Davis,  dated  at  Greens- 
boro', N.  C,  calling  for  one  thousand  picked  men  to 
escort  him  and  what  remained  of  his  government  to 
Washoe,  Ga. 

Debrell  was  accordingly  despatched  with  the  required 
force,  and  after  a  march  of  three  days  reached  Greensboro', 
at  which  point  he  found  Jeff.  Davis  with  his  family,  Judah 
P.  Benjamin,  John  C.  Breckinridge,  Senator  Burnett,  of 
Kentucky,  J.  H.  Reagan,  Postmaster-General,  Gustavua 
A.  Ilurns,  of  Tennessee,  and  other  rebel  officials. 

As  soon  as  General  Debrell  arrived  the  party  prepared 
to  march,  and  they  set  out  on  the  following  day.  Jeff. 
Davis  and  the  rebel  officials  rode  in  front,  followed  by 
ambulances  containing  the  women  and  children,  and  the 
specie,  which  was  currently  reported  among  the  officers 
to  amount  to  eleven  millions  of  dollars.  It  was  put  up 
in  heavy  iron-bound  kegs  and  boxes,  and  had  a  guard 
of  one  thousand  men  led  by  General  Debrell  himself, 
which  followed  this  train. 

At  a  point  about  five  miles  from  Greensboro'  they 
encamped,  the  rebel  president  and  family  taking  up  their 
quarters  in  a  house  in  the  vicinity.  Here  the  rank  and 
file  first  learned  the  object  of  their  mission,  and  it  was 
discussed  with  all  the  surmises  which  it  naturally  excited, 
the  men  being  extremely  anxious  to  know  the  destina- 
tion of  their  government. 

On  the  following  day  he  visited  the  boys  and  made  a 


^488  cfAPTtJRE  OF  JEFF.  Di^Vfs. 

Boul-stirring  speech,  adverting  to  the  disasters  that  had 
overtaken  their  beloved  Confederacy,  but  giving  them 
every  assurance  that  they  Were  not  irrevocably  lost — 
that  all  that  was  necessary  to  ultimate  success  was  confi- 
dence in  their  Government,  and  the  undaunted  bravery 
which  had  characterized  the  Confederate  Array  during 
its  past  career. 

Upon  taking  up  the  line  of  march  they  rode  in  the 
same  order,  Davis  having  by  his  side  young  Colonel 
Johnson,  son  of  General  Albert  Sydney  Johnson,  in  whom 
he  evidently  reposed  the  most  implicit  confidence. 

They  reached  Charlotte,  N.  C,  where  they  again 
camped,  and  Davis  harangued  the  men  again,  inspiring 
confidence  in  them,  and  dealing  in  glowing  words  of 
rebel  patriotism.  He  appeared  happy  and  cheerful,  took 
the  boys  by  the  hand,  and  entered  into  cheerful  conver- 
sation with  them.  He  would  praise  their  valor  in  the 
presence  of  the  ladies,  and  call  them  the  faithful  thousand, 
the  flower  of  the  Confederacy,  and  paid  other  pretty  but 
not  substantial  compliments. 

At  this  poivit  they  were  joined  by  Basil  Duke,  Fer- 
guson, and  Vaughn,  which  increased  the  escort  to  the 
magnificent  proportion  of  five  thousand  men. 

After  the  new  comers  had  mingled  with  the  others, 
they  soon  learned  the  condition  of  things ;  and  they,  too, 
had  their  surmises.  Like  a  pack  of  hungry  wolves,  they 
were  suddenly  reminded  that  the  government  was  slightly 
indebted  to  them,  and  as  the  treasure  was  near  at  hand 
the  idea  of  presenting  their  bills  very  naturally  suggested 
itself. 

The  men  would  congregate  in  groups,  and  their  low 
mutterings  boded  no  good  to  the  government.  Jeft*.  found 
it  necessary  to  redouble  his  efforts  to  conciliate,  but  his 
eloquence  was  wasted  now.  The  men  obeyed  their 
marching  orders,  and  followed  Jeff,  into  South  Carolina 
to  Abbeville,  where  they  again  halted, Very  much  fatigued 
linti '  demoKllizod. 


^CAl'TURE  OF  JEFF.  DAVIS.  -^89 

On  tlie  6tli  things  began  to  assume  a  new  desperate 
feature,  and  Davis  tbund  it  politic  to  inspire  his  brave 
bojs  "with  somethihg  more  substantial  than  words.  The 
treasure  was  opened,  and  the  division  of  General  I)ebrell, 
with  the  brrga,des  of  Duke,  Ferguson,  and  Vaughn  were 
formed  in  line,  and  the  soldiers  were  paid  off.  Some  of 
the  men  were  paid  $30,  some  $28,  and  others  $20.  They 
were  paid  in  gold  and  silver,  the  coin  being  chiefly 
Me'xic&n  dollars,  with  a  few  United  States. 

In  the  everting  Duke  sent  his  Adjutant-General,  Cap- 
tain "Davis,  to  notify  all  his  men  who  wished  to  go  west 
of  the  Mississippi  Iliver,  to  report  at  11  o'clock  on  the 
following  day.  At  the  appointed  time  all  the  men  re- 
ported, but  Duke  refused  to  take  only  those  who  were 
armed,  and  left  the  others  to  shift  for  themselves. 

They  heaped  curses  on  Duke,  and  with  heavy  hearts 
went  to  Washoe,  Ga.,  Avhere  they  surrendered  themselves 
to  General  Wilson,  together  with  the  brigades  of  Fergu- 
^son  and  Vaughn. 

The  command  of  General  Debrell  escorted  Jeff.  Davis 
to  Vienna  Valley,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Savannah 
River,  about  twenty  rniles  from  Washington,  when  the 
grand  dissolution  took  place  on  the  9th. 

At  this  point  Benjamin,  Breckinridge,  Burnett,  and 
several  others,  took  a  last  farewell  of  Davis  and  his 
family.  At  the  hour  named,  Jeff,  and  suite  crossed  the 
river,  and  the  other  portion  of  the  government  galloped 
off  to  Washington,  their  pocket-handkerchiefs  in  mourn- 
ing. The  command  Was  apprised  of  the  fact  that  they 
were  now  left  to  follow  the  bent  of  their  own  inclina- 
tions. Benjamin  and  Breckinridge,  with  their  friends, 
no  doubt  reached  the  west  bank  of  the  Mississippi. 

The  camp  where  Jeff,  was  captured  was  situated  in  a 
'pine  forest  on  the  side  of  the  Abbeville  road,  about  one 
inile  from  Irwinsville,  Irwin  County,  Georgia.  It  con- 
-isisted  of  a  large  wall'tent,  containing  only  the  arch  traitor 
%iid   bfs  ^femify,  "^hd  "iati  brdioary  ""^y,"  Scontatoiu-g  iKo 


490  CAPTURE  OF  JEFF.  DAVIS. 

male  portion  of  the  caravan.  Surrounding  and  con- 
tiguous to  these  were  two  common  army  wagons,  two 
ambulances,  and  several  horses  and  mules,  with  the 
usual  amount  of  camp-paraphernalia,  such  as  saddles, 
bridles,  harness,  cooking  utensils,  &c.  Davis  himself 
and  Postmaster  Reagan,  with  the  two  Colonels,  Lubbock 
and  Johnson,  aides-de-camp,  had  only  overtaken  the 
party  the  night  before,  after  a  fatiguing  journey  from 
Washington,  Ga.,  where  they  had  remained  to  "settle 
some  business,''^  as  they  say,  while  Mrs.  Davis,  with  the 
children  and  servants,  had  pushed  forward,  under  the 
protection  and  escort  of  Private  Secretary  Harrison  and 
a  few  of  the  faithful,  such  as  Lieutenant  Hathaway,  Mid- 
shipman Howell,  and  about  twenty  private  soldiers. 

It  was  near  Washington  where  Davis  dismissed  his 
escort  and  divided  the  spoils,  under  the  most  pressing 
circumstances.  Some  of  Stoneman's  cavalry  were  hard 
"upon  him,  and  he  concluded  to  deceive  them  by  letting 
them  follow  the  body  of  cavalry,  while  he  and  his  friends 
travelled  incog  across  the  country  and  joined  his  family. 
To  add  to  the  horrors  of  his  situation  the  escort  demanded 
a  division  of  the  contents  of  the  kegs  and  boxes  (gold  and 
silver),  and  he  was  obliged  to  delay  some  time  and  act  as 
paymaster.  As  far  as  I  could  learn  the  division  was 
very  unequally  made,  some  of  the  officers  receiving  as 
much  as  one  hundred  dollars  and  upwards,  the  lion's 
share,  while  others  not  so  exacting  received  a  bare  pit- 
tance. This  raised  considerable  disturbance  in  the  camp, 
and  during  the  melee  Jeflf.  and  his  compagnons  du  voyage 
skedaddled. 

The  attack  was  made  upon  the  camp  by  Colonel 
Pritchard  just  as  the  first  streak  of  dawn  began  to  light 
the  eastern  sky.  Everything  was  profoundly  silent. 
Jeff,  was  undoubtedly  dreaming  of  his  former  greatness, 
and  the  entire  party  were  wrapped  in  the  somnambulent 
embrace  of  Morpheus,  when  they  were  suddenly  startled 
by  the  yells  of  the  soldiers,  and  awoke  too  lato  to  make 


CAPTURE  OF  JEFF.  DAVIl  491 

preparations  for  even  a  feeble  resistance.  After  the 
offioer.s  and  men  in  the  "fly"  Avere  safely  under  guard, 
which  occupied  some  lime,  a  corporal  went  to  the  door 
of  the  tent  occupied  by  defunct  royalty,  and  ordered 
them  to  come  forth  and  deliver  themselves  up.  Mrs. 
Davis  appeared  at  the  door,  and  said : — 

"  Please,  gentlemen,  do  not  intrude  upon  the  privacy 
of  ladies.  There  are  no  gentlemen  here,  and  you  will 
oblige  us  greatly  by  giving  us  time  to  dress." 

"  All  right,  madam,"  said  the  little  corporal ;  "we  will 
give  you  time  to  make  your  toilet,  and  then  you  can  take 
a  ride  to  Macon  far  your  health." 

A  guard  was  placed  around  the  tent,  and  the  reader's 
imagination  must  draw  from  the  denouement  what  tran- 
spired inside.  After  a  half  hour's  interval  the  monotony 
outside  only  being  broken  by  the  demands  of  the  guard 
to  "  hurry  up,"  there  came  to  the  door  Mrs,  Davis  and 
Miss  Howell,  leading  an  apparently  decrepit  old  lady, 
dressed  in  a  lady's  morning  wrapper,  with  a  tight  hood 
on  her  head  and  her  face  covered  with  a  small  veil.  The 
"old  lady"  could  walk  only  with  difficulty,  but  tottered 
through  the  door  of  the  tent  with  a  tin  pail  on  her  arm. 

"Soldier,  I  suppose  you  have  no  objection  to  letting 
my  old  mother  go  to  the  spring  for  some  water  for  us 
to  wash  with  ?"  said  Mrs.  Davis. 

"  Wall,  I  reckon  I  have  some  little  objection  to  letting 
that  old  lady  go,"  said  the  corporal.  "  She  wears  boots, 
don't  she  ?"  and  with  the  point  of  his  sabre  he  raised  the 
frock,  discovering  a  large  coarse  pair  of  calfskin  boots. 
While  the  corporal  was  discovering  and  exhibiting  the 
cloven  feet  of  the  beast,  another  soldier  stripped  the  veil 
and  hood  from  off  his  face,  and  lo !  the  great  ass  which 
has  so  long  been  hidden  'neath  a  lion's  skin — Jeff.  Davis 
■ — stood  before  them  in  all  his  pusillanimity,  and  in  his 
true  character,  before  the  light  of  which  Henry  VIII. 
pales  and  Richard  III.  rises  in  the  scale  of  human  great- 
ness. 


49b  CAPriTlE  "of  JEFF.  DAVIS. 

When  Jeif.  saw  that  he  was  fairly  caught,  "Stfd  wouM 
be  delivered  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  he  wax^d 
exceeding  wroth,  and  railed  out  at  the  soldiers  when- 
ever opp'ortunity  afforded.  He  frequently  made  use  of 
such  sneering  remarks  as : — 

"  Valorous  soldiers,  indeed,  to  hiake  war  upon  women 
and  children."     ''  I  thought  the  Yankee  Government  was 
a  little  more  valorous  than  to  send  its  soldiers  to  steal . 
defenceless  women    and    children    out  of  their  heds  at 
night,  &;c." 

Mrs.  Davis  ironically  remarked  that  she  "was  not  aware 
that  an  old  woman  and  four  childreti  were  of  so  much 
value  as  to  be  escorted  by  three  hundred  soldiers  tbrough 
the  country." 

I  have  not  yet  mentioned  the  effect  produced  upon 
Davis  by  the  President's  proclamation  offering  a  reward 
of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  for  his  arrest.  I  hav^e 
often  tried  to  imagine  the  terror  of  Belshazzar  when  ho 
read  his  doom  in  the  handwriting  on  the  wall,  or  the 
horror  of  the  murderer  when  the  hands  of  the  officers  of 
the  law  are  laid  rudely  upon  him.  Such,  but  in  a  vastly 
magnified  degree,  must  have  been  the  feelings  of  Jeff. 
Davis  when  he  read  that  proclamation.  As  his  eyes 
glanced  over  the  fatal  lines,  I  have  thought  that  he  must 
have  come  to  the  first  realization  of  his  condition.  He 
trembled  like  an  aspen  leaf,  dropped  the  paper  from  his 
hands,  and  sank  into  reveries  and  sullenness.  His  wife 
picked  up  the  paper,  read  its  contents  audibly,  and  they 
all  burst  into  tears. 

Colonel  Pritchard  and  escort  arrived  at  Macon  about 
four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  ^Nlay  12th,  1865.  For 
miles  along  the  streets  and  on  the  road  on  which  the 
cortege  was  expected  to  arrive  were  strung  squads  of 
people  eager  to  catch  one  glance  of  the  man  who  but  so 
recently  had  been  their  sovereign,  and  at  who've  doors  sb 
many  crimes  and  -sins  were  laid.  Their  curiosity,  how- 
ever, was  not  gratified  to  any  considerable  extent,  as  h» 


CAPTURE  OF  JEFF.  DAVIS.  493 

Tode  in  a  close  ambulance,  and  when  he  alighted  at  the 
Lanier  House  (General  Wilson's  headquarters),  the  guard 
obstructed  their  vision.  Dinner  was  already  prepared,  and 
the  prisoners  partook  of  it  with  a  relish.  After  dinner 
Postmaster  Reagan,  who  it  seems  had  taken  the  contract 
to  see  "  the  President"  (?)  safe  through  to  Texas,  was 
admitted  to  General  Wilson's  room,  where  were  congre- 
gated several  officers,  including  the  general  himself,  and 
the  writer  of  this  article,  Reagan  told  General  Wilson 
that  he  wished  to  ask  his  permission  to  accompany  "  the 
President"  to  Washington,  adding  that  he  had  shared 
with  him  his  prosperity — (exactly  so;  vide  the  bills  of 
exchange  drawn  on  London  in  his  name) — and  did  not 
wish  to  desert  him  in  the  hour  of  his  adversity.  On 
receiving  assurances  that  he  would  be  permitted  to 
accompany  him  he  expressed  his  gratitude. 

"  You  are  under  no  obligations,  sir,"  said  the  General, 
"for  I  should  have  sent  you,  whether  you  wanted  to  go 
or  not.  You  are  a  civilian  prisoner^  and  he  is  a  prisoner 
both  military  and  civil." 

The  party  was  joined  here  by  Clement  C.  Clay  and 
his  wife,  they  having  come  from  Lagrange  (their  home) 
the  previous  day,  and  surrendered  themselves  to  General 
Wilson.  The  meeting  between  Davis  and  Clay  was 
very  cordial,  and  Mrs.  Davis  and  Mrs.  Clay  were  very 
aflfectionate  to  each  other.  The  affections  and  feelings  of 
the  two  families  seemed  to  run  in  one  and  the  same 
channel,  and  they  were  often  caught  in  secret  counsel  to- 
gether, and  separated  by  the  guard.  While  in  conver- 
sation with  Colonel  Pritchard  and  mj^self,  Mrs.  Clay 
jocularly  remarked  that  as  she  brought  Mr.  Clay  to 
Macon  she  should  claim  the  reward. 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Davis,  "one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
would  be  considerable  of  an  amount  of  pocket  change 
for  us  poor  unfortunates  now.  I  sold  my  horses,  carriages, 
silver  ware  and  jewelry  for  what  little  money  I  had,  and 
that  has  been  stolen  from  me." 


494  CAPTURE  OF  JEFF.  DAVIS. 

I  could  not  see,  however,  any  lack  of  jewelry  about 
her  person,  as  she  ?^:-crtt)d  two  splendid  diamond  rings 
upon  one  finger. 

Nothing  further  of  interest  occurred  during  the 
route  from  Macon  to  Atlanta,  as  it  was  in  the  night, 
and  most  of  the  party,  weary  and  sleepy,  went  off  into 
deep  slumber. 

At  Atlanta  General  Upton  had  a  train,  an  escort, 
and  a  warm  breakfast  in  waiting  for  us,  and,  after 
about  an  hour's  delay,  we  were  off  for  Augusta.  Gen- 
eral Upton  and  two  of  his  staff  officers  accompanied 
us.  From  Augusta  we  proceeded  to  Port  Royal, 
where  the  prisoners  were  transferred  to  a  steamer 
and  carried  to  Fortress  Monroe. 

Here,  on  the  "sacred  soil  of  Virginia,"  but  a  little 
distance  from  the  scenes  of  his  former  greatness,  the 
rebel  president  was  placed  in  "durance  vile."  And 
thus  dropped  the  curtain  on  the  last  prominent  act  in 
the  great  drama  of  the  rebellion, 


THE   END. 


